


Kobicha and Cognac

by tell_tale_heart



Category: Free!, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Eventual Smut, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5965753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tell_tale_heart/pseuds/tell_tale_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the beginning of Jean Kirstein's senior year of high school.  He likes to scowl.  Until he meets the new student, Rin Matsuoka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rare pair! There's pretty much nothing for this pairing. But I find them intriguing! This will be a short fic. It WAS just going to be a one-shot. Then it inflated into two chapters, then a hat trick. I'm sitting on the fact that it will be four. Don't hold me to that, though. FIVE chapters, max. I lied, it's looking like 7 now.
> 
> OHH. I haven't tagged all the relationships that will be featured. For plot reasons! And this rating will turn into explicit soon enough. You have been warned!

Jean Kirstein got out of his car slowly, not in a rush to start the first day of his last year of high school. With unenthusiastic movements and a scowl on his face, he grabbed his backpack and shut his car door. He sighed. Where had the summer gone? He approached the school's side entrance, brown eyes scanning the parking lot for his best friend, Marco. He shielded his eyes against the bright sunshine of the day, cursing himself for leaving his sunglasses in the car. Oh well. He wasn't going back for them now.

Students were milling around everywhere in the parking lot, not yet ready to go in and admit that their summer was over and school was back in session. Everyone was doing that timid checking-other-people-out thing, seeing what their peers were wearing, their new haircut, who was now dating who. Conny and Sasha were clowning around with Christa and Ymir, eating some candy from the looks of it. Bertholdt and Reiner were leaning against Bert's car, talking quietly and looking in a fixed direction, expressions unscrutable. Jean couldn't tell what or who it was they were staring at, for there were a couple of big vehicles in the way.

He spotted Mikasa and Eren walking quickly toward the school, the male absorbed in his phone and no doubt texting his boyfriend Armin to see where he was. Jean sneered. He had finally gotten over his short-lived crush on Armin, but he still believed that the small blond could have done better in his choice of a relationship. Though he and Eren were on the soccer team together, he generally couldn't put up with the kid for very long. Jaeger always rubbed him the wrong way.

Jean kept walking, cutting across a row of cars, and there Marco was. Talking to . . . Annie. Ugh. Personally, Jean couldn't stand the girl. The feeling was probably mutual--Jean didn't have many people that he would consider close friends. He seemed to put people off, somehow. But from an objective perspective, the light-brown haired male didn't know what Marco saw in Annie. She was moody, rude, and didn't really try hard in school though she could be near the top academically in their class if she tried--all qualities that were completely wrong for his best friend. Marco should be with a girl who was nice, cheerful and excited about learning and taking on new adventures, just like he was.

Jean watched as they finished up their conversation, checking the time on his phone impatiently. Finally, Annie started walking toward Bert and Reiner. So that's what the skyscraper duo had been staring at. Hmm. Interesting. Jean knew through Marco that Annie and Bert had split a month into their summer break. And Marco had tried to summon courage to ask her to hang out, but had chickened out in the end. Privately, Jean had been glad. He had tried to fix up his best friend with Mikasa, the smart and beautiful student council vice-president. But then she had told him she was already dating some guy from another school. Ugh. Figures.

Marco fell into step beside him as they walked toward the school, a small smile on his face, cheeks stained pink in such a way that seemed to bring out his freckles. As much as Jean didn't care for Annie, he knew Marco did, for whatever reason. So he would be there for him.

"Out with it, asshole. What'd you two talk about? Her perpetual frown or the way you stalk her Facebook page?"

Marco turned his face to him, laughing, used to his best friend's attitude. "You're in a mood today, aren't you?" Jean shrugged non-commitally, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders.

"And uh . . . we just talked about which classes we're taking this semester. She and I have third period together." Jean nodded at this piece of information to show that he was listening. "Then you showed up with your surly disposition and she took off. Maybe you scared her way."

"My surly disposition?" Jean scoffed. "Don't you mean glittering temperament? I'm the jolliest guy in this school!" Marco glanced skyward in dramatic exasperation, amused by his friend's sarcastic nature. The two of them made their way toward their first class. Right outside the door, Eren had Armin pushed up against a row of lockers, the two currently indulging in some whispered conversation and light kissing.

Marco looked out of the corner of his eye toward his best friend, but Jean just rolled his eyes. He really didn't have feelings for Armin anymore. It was just kind of a dull thud by now, and that was only because Armin was his good friend and he wanted nothing but the best for him. Better than that showboat idiot Jaeger. Who needed some heavy practice on his defensive skills on the soccer field.

Their teacher (and soccer coach), Mr. Ackerman, walked by just then and flicked the back of Eren's head as he passed. "Save it for later, Jaeger. I need Armin to focus on American Lit now. Hit the road."

"Sorry, Coach," Eren said sheepishly, giving Armin one last quick kiss before walking off with a happy smile on his face. Armin watched him leave, cheeks red and blue eyes wide, and then walked into Mr. Ackerman's room. Jean and Marco followed, taking seats in the far row near the window. Jean always favored the seats by the window. When classes became boring as they inevitably did, he was able to see the soccer field and think about matches and the bright lights of the soccer field and calling out plays.

The bell rang, effectively putting an end to the chatter in the room. Mr. Ackerman didn't put up with the nonsense of students. Though people (and his players) often made light of his short stature when he wasn't around, he could stare someone into panic when displeased. Which happened from time to time. Such as when a rookie last year had forgotten his place and called Coach Ackerman "short stack." Jean and Marco had exchanged panicked looks. The kid had been running laps for days.

"Alright you brats. Time for another semester of fun--" Mr. Ackerman stopped speaking as a late-comer walked through the door. And Jean felt his eyes freeze.

"Hello, sorry I'm late. I was getting my schedule from the main office." The speaker was male, and tall in a somewhat graceful way. His fluid steps into the classroom made Jean think of a dancer. He had long legs currently clothed in slim-fitting black jeans that fell low on his hips. His shoulders were wide, abdomen tapering off into a slim waist. He wore a black and red plaid long-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned, over a white deep v-neck. Jean felt his eyes wandering over the bare expanse of skin revealed near his neck and collar-bones. But then he looked up to the male's face, which was in profile. And then that's all he wanted to see. The tall male had deep red hair, strands of which fell into his eyes, across his cheekbones. It was cut into different lengths around the crown of his head, the longest parts covering the back of his neck. Jean watched longingly as he hand-combed some strands back across his head, an apologetic smile on his face.

"And you are?" Mr. Ackerman asked in his usual even-tempered voice, of which Jean was very well acquainted with. This was his day to day voice--nothing like the fearful tone he could summon when angered. Jean had been on the receiving end of one or two tongue-lashings before, his coach's voice deadly quiet as he recounted the male's mistakes on the soccer field. It wasn't something he ever wanted to experience again.

"I'm Rin. Rin Matsuoka." _Rin Matsuoka . . . hmm_. _It was a nice sounding name_ , Jean thought, totally absorbed in drinking in the sight of the male in front of the class.

"Well Rin Matusoka, take a seat. We were just beginning. Welcome to AP American Literature."

Jean suddenly sat up very straight in his seat, fully aware that there was a vacant desk right in front of him. He watched as Rin scanned the classroom--there were a few empty seats in the front--briefly meeting his eyes. And then Rin was walking in his direction, toward the empty desk in front of him.

Jean let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Rin had taken his seat, setting his notebook on the desk. The brunet found himself staring at the back of Rin's head, eyes creating trails down the redhead's hair, boring holes in his creamy neck. After only a few seconds, he became aware that the male smelled pleasantly of some sort of natural fragrance, but not in the way cologne invaded one's nostrils. This was kind of woodsy . . . and cinnamon-like? He felt incredibly drawn to the scent, and he took a deep breath in, inhaling the essence of Rin. And then the redhead turned around, unsettling the air around them.

"Um, do you have a pen that I could borrow?" Jean's kobicha-colored eyes met the reddish-brown of Rin's, a color somewhere between cognac and chestnut. And he was even more beautiful close up. For a moment all the brunet could do was stare at the other male's face, eyes running across the pale cheeks, the delicate chin. His lips were thin, perfect mirrors of each other, a natural pinkish hue. Everything about him resonated as warmth. The woodsy cinnamon scent was stronger now, as Rin had leaned toward Jean when he asked the question. And then Jean realized that he hadn't answered him back yet. And it had been an awkward amount of time. With him just staring at the redhead, becoming unraveled into stupidity.

 _You've made me stupid._   _I am stupid right now._   _I can't even speak a word._   _This even sounds stupid in my head_.

Rin seemed to become unnerved by the stare and silence, and then slowly started to turn around, eyes wide.

_Shit, now I've totally creeped him out._

Jean held his pen hand up awkwardly and limply, palm up, as if the writing utensil was some sacrifice to the gods.

"Oh . . . well I meant borrow it for the class. If you have an extra one." Rin seemed to be measuring his expression, not sure what to make of it.

"I have an extra," Jean was able to manage croakily.  _Goddammit what's wrong with me?_

"Thanks . . . " Rin delicately plucked the pen from Jean's hand, as if the appendage was a creature's mouth that would chomp down on his fingers. Then he turned around as Mr. Ackerman began his class.

Jean shook himself, and then reached a hand down to his backpack--and realized that he didn't have a spare pen. Perhaps part of him knew in the first place that he didn't have an extra. There was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned his head around to see a big grin on Marco's face. He was holding out a spare pen to him. He started to grab it from his friend when Marco leaned forward and whispered, "You were right. I see your glittering temperament now."

The brunet snatched the pen out of his freckle-faced friend's grasp and then faced the front of the classroom with a huff. He ignored the sound of Marco's quiet chuckle from behind him. _That shithead thinks he is so damn funny_.

The class went by amazingly fast. Not that Jean had any idea what Mr. Ackerman talked about. It was probably the same bullshit all teachers lectured about on their first day. He would just ask Marco later about it. Though his friend would probably grin impishly at him while he did it. Maybe he would ask Armin or Mikasa instead. Through most of class Jean watched the back of Rin's head, the redhead's hair falling around the front of his face. Or when Rin leaned forward in the desk to write, Jean was free to admire the obvious strength of his shoulders. He found himself imagining what it would be like to touch the redhead's neck right near the collar of his plaid shirt. His skin looked so soft. . . and he smelled so good.

And then the bell was ringing for class to be over. Jean hurriedly shoved his notebook (that he hadn't written in) into his backpack and stood.

"Here's your pen-" Rin began, standing. They were almost the exact same height, and their eyes were on a level with each other.

Jean held out a hand, intent on introducing himself. "My name's Rin," he said stupidly. _Oh god no_. _I didn't just._   _Yes, yes I did_. His face reddened.

"I mean Jean. My name's Jean. You are Rin." The redhead was looking at him in concern, perfect brows creased, uncertain how to respond. Jean dropped his hand heavily, and then booked it from the room.

Once around the corner, he breathed out heavily, slowing his pace to get to his next class. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't fucking believe it. He had been made into a blabbering idiot. Oh god, what must Rin think of him right now? The brunet wanted to dig a hole and bury his head into it.

"Jean! Jean, hold up!" And then Marco was at his side, grinning.

"Don't you start with me," Jean warned, a scowl again on his face as he glared at his best friend.

Marco held his palms up innocently, and the two walked into their next class, Calculus. They took seats in different rows, but next to each other. Jean could see Marco biting his lip, as if to hold back a laugh or words.

"Alright, out with it freckle-face. How bad was it? Did I totally freak him out or what?"

Marco's face sobered, as if somehow sensing the uncharacteristic desolation in his friend's voice. "Hmmm.... well . . . I'm not sure. He kinda stared after you as you left. He didn't seem creeped out. Just surprised? Errrr. Maybe he thought you were . . . _unintelligent_?"

Jean groaned, hiding his face in his hands. _Please don't let him be in this class please don't let him be in this class._  The brunet had his wish granted, and about halfway through class he was finally able to calm down. And then realized what a shitshow Calculus was going to be. Mr. Zacharius might have been a mathematical wonder, but he didn't always make the best instructor. Jean wasn't looking forward to this class for the rest of the semester at all.

Their classes were on a block schedule, so they only had 4 each day, and then switched the next semester. Lunch was next, and Jean felt himself looking around the cafeteria with quick glances. He told himself he was just trying to locate the group of friends that he and Marco usually sat with. When in reality, every time he saw a hint of a red and black shirt he did a double-take. But still no Rin Matsuoka.

He was fully back to his usual sarcastic self throughout lunch, catching up with some of his soccer buddies that he hadn't seen too much of during the summer. Eren was sitting at the table with Armin and Mikasa. Conny and Sasha were close by. Jean looked up to see Marco looking toward the corner of the cafeteria. He followed his gaze, seeing Annie eating lunch with Bert and Reiner. In Jean's opinion, the two males were a couple of dubious douchebags. They were popular enough on the football team, but usually the trio kept to themselves. Jean had never really cared for any of them.

"Do you think she's getting back together with him?" Marco asked quietly so that only Jean could hear. He took a bite of his sandwich, trying to look nonchalant about his question. But Jean knew better. His friend's feelings were wrapped up in Annie for some inexplicable reason.

"I don't know," he said honestly. Jean saw the three of them talking quietly amongst themselves, not really smiling or laughing. "But you already know exactly how I feel about her. You two are nothing alike. No common interests. Probably nothing to even talk about. She's downright bitchy 90% of the time."

Marco sighed, a frown on his normally carefree face. "I know . . .I don't really know why I like her. If I sit back and think about it, it doesn't make any sense. But I haven't really met anyone else that I'm interested in." He shrugged, returning to his sandwich. Jean felt helpless to make his friend feel better about the situation. But maybe he could distract him.

"How do you think we will do against Sina next week?" Marco and he were co-captains of the soccer team, each leading in their own way. Marco was more laid-back and encouraging. He was the starting goalie, the heart and soul of the team. Jean's style of leadership was more demanding and he led by example when on the field. He believed it was the best way to motivate his teammates.

Marco lit up. "It's gonna be a great battle." They talked for the rest of lunch about their strategies and new practice routines they wanted to ask Coach Ackerman about. By the end of lunch, the frown on Marco's face had long since disappeared. Jean's next class was AP Spanish, the only one he didn't have with Marco. This class would be easy compared to the mess that would be Calculus. He sat near Armin and Mikasa.

In the few minutes before their class began, they chatted about their classes and Student Council business, seeing as how both he and Armin were also officers of the club. He saw Mikasa eyeing him coyly.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He narrowed his eyes at her. She smirked.

"I saw you stiffen up like a board this morning. In American Lit. As soon as that redhead showed up. . ."

Armin's face lit up in excitement. "I saw you talking to him after class. How'd that go?"

Jean looked determinedly away from the both of them. "I had to hear it from Marco already, I don't need you two to make fun of me, too."

"So I was right," Mikasa said triumphantly. "You better make a move on him fast, because with his looks, he's not going to last long, you know."

Jean sighed. "You saw him, right?" Both Mikasa and Armin nodded. "And you see me, right?" They nodded again. "Then you'd know that I would never stand a chance."

Mikasa combed her bangs away from her face. "Now you're just being ridiculous."

The blond male studied Jean's face carefully. "Or you're just scared," he teased. Jean knew what they were doing. They were his good friends, trying to goad him into action. And usually, that method would work on a person like him with a hot temper. But for some reason, seeing the redhead had done a number on him. He had melted quicker than butter on a hot frying pan.

"Yeah, that could be it," he muttered, turning to face the front of the class. Both of his friends looked at him in disbelief. Jean was never one to admit weakness of any kind, so this was totally out of character for him.

"Besides, there's also the huge possibility that he isn't gay, you know," he reminded them as the bell rang. The class quieted down as a sweet, new teacher began the class, Ms. Ral. Jean could tell that most of the males in the room were totally enthralled by the young teacher. He guessed she was pretty from a purely aesthetic point of view. But she wasn't male. Or redheaded. Or tall and slim and muscular all at the same time. Gah. Jean gave up on trying to listen to Ms. Ral and instead mindlessly doodled in his notebook. He reddened as he thought again of his embarrassing moment earlier in the day when he had introduced himself to Rin. How could he ever live that down?

Class ended soon enough, and he and Mikasa made their way to Physics. Armin said goodbye to them and scampered off to some other academic pursuit. Jean was pretty sure that the small blond had already taken Physics last year and was now lucky enough to have a free period. He and the raven-haired female casually chatted as they made their way toward the Science wing, Jean ignoring Mikasa's attempts to bring the subject of their conversation back towards Rin. He wasn't biting.

"Hey . . can you save me a spot at a table? I'm gonna run to the bathroom." He held his backpack out toward Mikasa until she gave in with a "yeah, sure." Jean hurried there and back, not wanting to be late to Ms. Zoe's class. _Hanji_ , he reminded himself, _she wants us to call her Hanji_.

He walked through the doorway, eyes scanning for Mikasa and Marco. And then stopped suddenly in his tracks, causing Christa and Ymir to run into him from behind.

"Sorry, sorry," Jean said appeasingly to them. They walked off, joining Sasha at a table. The male resumed his walk toward where Marco and Mikasa were perched on stools at a table near the far end of the room . . . along with the redhead that Jean had simultaneously wanted to see and avoid at the same time. Rin.

"Oh here he is," Mikasa crowed as he took a seat on a stool next to Marco and across from Mikasa. "We were just chatting with Rin here. He was in Australia for this past year."

Jean felt himself redden at the embarrasing approach Mikasa was taking. He hoped to all the gods that Rin didn't think he put her up to it. He glanced at the redhead, seeing that he was looking at his hands, fingers laced together on top of the table.

The bell rang then, saving Jean from having to make any comment. He glared at Mikasa, but she responded with a wink before turning her attention to Ms. Zoe--Hanji--at the front of the room.

"Good afternoon, bright minds of Shiganshina High School! Welcome to the world of Physics!" Hanji walked around the class, gesturing enthusiastically, a wide grin on her face. "Coming around the room is this year's syllabus and class conduct. I won't be wasting time going over them. Take them home, read both, sign them, and have your parent or guardian sign. We're going to dive right in today!"

And with that, Hanji lectured them on kinematics for a short amount of time, energy in her voice. Then she had them working as groups to complete their first lab. Through observation of a ball running down an inclined ramp, they had to find the velocity and acceleration. With something interesting to focus on, the four of them began the lab. Jean, determined to prove that he was not, as Marco had suggested earlier, _unintelligent_ , came up with suggestions and set up their equations. He only managed to do this by completely avoiding looking at the redheaded male. As it was, he kept getting momentarily distracted by the woodsy and yet cinnamon scent of Rin.

Marco kept track of their results on the timer, Mikasa suggested they try several attempts to get a better result for their answers, and Rin was the official record-keeper. At one point, their rubber ball bounced away from them and both Jean and Rin moved to catch it. Their hands touched as Rin closed his fist around the ball, and Jean quickly recoiled from the contact, now on edge. The redheaded male frowned at Jean's reaction, and then their experiment continued.

By the end of the class, Jean felt proud of himself that he had been able to focus on their assignment, though he had only addressed and looked at Mikasa and Marco. His two friends, unhappy with the brunet's behavior, occasionally chatted with Rin. Jean listened in to their conversations, trying not to become undone again, this time by the mere sound of the redhead's voice, genuine and polite.

They each solved the equations individually, and then Rin recorded their official answers on a separate sheet to hand in to Hanji. Jean watched the readhead's fluid walk as he made his way over to their teacher.

"You're an idiot," Mikasa said to him in a superior tone of voice. "What is wrong with you? You were being rude to him."

"I was not!" Jean said hotly. He looked to Marco for support. His best friend shrugged, apparently siding with Mikasa.

"Ughhh!" Jean gathered up his materials hastily, shoving them in his backpack, and then the bell rang. _Finally, something goes my way_. He fled from the room, not looking back, not even waiting for Marco.

He walked angrily toward his car, a scowl once again on his face.  He exchanged his backpack for his gym bag. It was time for soccer practice. He slammed the lid of his trunk down, causing a few students around him to look at him questioningly. He ignored them. On the way back in, he felt his anger dissipating as he realized he was upset at himself for being awkward, and not at his friends for telling it like it was. He was going to have to do something about that.

* * *

By the end of the week, nothing had changed. It made Jean feel incredibly frustrated.

The days passed quickly enough, as most weeks are wont to do. Jean found himself on Friday afternoon venting to Marco as they walked toward the gym to get changed for practice.

"And I just don't know what to do! I feel like an idiot."

"Have you tried striking up a conversation with him? Like a normal person?"

"MARCO. The last time I did that I introduced myself as Rin. He just does something to me. I WANT to talk to him, get to know him. Find out what he's into. But I--I can't speak right, or figure out what I want to say in the first place. I'm fucking awkward. GOD. He's so hot. And beautiful. I just sit there and stare and hope he doesn't catch me looking at him like a creep."  Jean exhaled in relief, feeling a little better at having putting it all out in the open.  He had kept most of it back from his best friend this past week.

"I've never seen you like this, man." Marco's eyebrows were raised as they walked around a corner.

"Yeah well, I've never felt like this before." Jean sighed, frustration working its way in at the thought that Marco might not have any words of wisdom for him.

"Hey! KIRSTEIN! BOTT! Wait up!"

Jean and Marco stopped in their tracks, turning around. Conny Springer was jogging toward them, gym bag slung over his shoulder. But that wasn't what made Jean's eyes widen in horror. Some ten feet behind them, Rin Matsuoka was walking in the same direction as them, hands shoved into his pockets. And by the blush on his normally pale cheeks, he had heard every word that Jean and Marco had said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole "getting overheard by the object of one's affections" thing happened to me IRL. It was pretty damn embarrassing. So yeah, I feel for Jean here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soccer practice!
> 
> Rain.
> 
> A ride home.
> 
> Nagisa.

Jean felt the moment intensely. Utter embarrassment froze his limbs, anxiety increased the bloodflow through his body and reddened his face. Everything seemed more vibrant in that moment, by far the most embarrassing of his life. The sound of Conny's sneakers as they hit the tiled floor was louder, thunk thunk thunk thunk. The red of the lockers was brighter, the school's lighting reflected on the painted surface. The stale smell of a high school--the week's accumulation of sweaty students--lingered like a pestilence in the hall.

Conny jogged up to them as Rin walked closer, the redhead's hands still shoved in his pockets, strands of hair hiding his face. Things seemed to be moving in slow motion, Jean's breathing seeming loud in his own ears as if he were trapped in the hollow of a tree. His eyes never left the spot where he had first seen Rin behind them, his continued and vacant stare fixed on aged lockers.

"The hell's wrong with you? You look constipated." Conny laughed loudly, socking Jean in the arm. And then Jean smelled it--the woodsy and cinnamon scent of Rin. It worked its way though his lungs, encapsulating his senses. He turned his head to the side, eyes wide and body following the direction of the redheaded male. By some unexplainable force, Rin looked up at him in that moment, eyes catching and holding Jean's, face full of . . . something. Their gazes held for a couple of beats, and then Rin had passed them by, continuing down the corridor. The brunet's body relaxed, his breathing calmed down, and he moved his brown eyes to meet Conny's comically perplexed face.

"I'm fine. Let's go." He looked over to Marco, seeing a worried look on his best friend's face. He had to have known just how embarrassing that was. Jean tilted his head to the side as a gesture to get them moving once more. He led the way through the gym to the men's locker room, eyes serious. He heard Conny and Marco chatting behind him as he got this thoughts back in order. The lingering embarrassment of having his feelings overheard by Rin was still there, but so was a mounting determination. He would not hide from this, from his feelings, from Rin, any longer. It wasn't like him, he saw that now.

The ability to become almost inhuman-like when it came down to focusing on a task was part of what made Jean Kirstein a great captain of the soccer team. He was able to analyze a situation, see what the solution was, and then move the pieces to accomplish the result. His peers, and even Marco, looked up to him for this reason and tried to model themselves after the brown-haired male. They often called him "Captain Serious" and it was a badge that Jean wore with pride--though he would never let his teammates know that. He would have it no other way.

So when it came to the beautiful Rin, Jean would tackle the problem like he did with all others. Determine the problem, come up with an answer, and strike. Take all of his anxiety out of it and act. Though it was easy to think that way now when the male wasn't around, Jean acknowledged to himself, as he changed into his practice clothing. Still, he was confident in his abilities and knew that he could only do his best. In the end, if Rin didn't return his feelings, wasn't interested, then at least Jean would know he hadn't given up even before he started.

Marco knew his best friend very well. So seeing the focused look on his friend's face as they headed out to the soccer field was enough for him not to mention the subject. He didn't want to sway him from his current course of action. He hoped that Jean had gotten over his initial apprehension and was now working toward a goal--actually doing something about his feelings for Rin instead of bemoaning about the situation.

Coach Ackerman worked them hard during practice, despite the dark clouds that were threatening to spill forward precipitation at any moment. If it were to pour, then practice would still continue, even if it meant leaving them soaked to the bone. The air felt heavier and humid, causing sweat to stick to each of the players' skin more than usual. Jean didn't notice. He focused on the ball, calling out plays, and modeling correct reactions to the players around him. Even Eren was paying attention, blue-green eyes taking in all that Jean and Marco had to say. The goalie saw that his friend was back in his element, and smiled. This was the Jean he knew, the strong-willed and determined male that he had been friends with for years.

Their coach finally dismissed them from practice, reminding them that the practices for next week would be lengthier and more involved due to their game against Sina High School exactly a week from now. They all started to slowly work their way off the field, Marco once again falling into step beside Jean.

"That went pretty well, you think?" Marco asked in his usual upbeat tone. Jean hmmmed his agreement, wiping his face of sweat with his practice jersey.

"You wanna get some food tom--" Marco's voice cut off into a strangled mess of words. Jean's eyes flew to his friend, seeing his mouth turned into a grimace and brown eyes downcast. Angry at what might have caused this sudden change in his friend's mood, Jean followed his gaze. The student parking lot was near their practice field. There, plain as day and leaning against Bert's car, Annie and the giant male were currently engaged in a kind of kissing that seemed to block out everything else around them, the female perched on the trunk of the vehicle as Bert leaned in close, her hands in his hair. Though Jean disliked Annie, he knew his friend was hurting. He turned to him, mouth open to offer some words of solace or sympathy. He buried his instinct to comment scathingly.

"Kirstein! A moment, if you would!" Jean exhaled through his nose at the interruption, and he halted his walk. He would have ignored anyone else in that moment, but his coach's demanding voice put a stop to his movements.

"Marco--I'll catch up to you in a minute," he said hastily. His friend made no indication that he had heard, now looking at the ground and continuing his trek toward the gym. Jean swore under his breath. Though he may not have too many friends, the ones he did have were close to him and he held those few in high regard. So to see his very best friend hurting, one that was kind to anybody and everybody, made Jean grit his teeth together in frustration.

Jean backtracked to his coach, jogging toward the bleachers, cleats kicking up grass and dirt. His lower legs were streaked with mud, as was his practice uniform. But a shower would have to wait. Coach Ackerman looked impatient, keys in hand and jiggling them impatiently against the side of his leg.

"Coach?"

"Kirstein. I have an appointment I have to keep. I can't be late. Can you run these forms over to Coach Smith? They are related to the roster and such. Completely confidential." Coach Ackerman's steely blue eyes fixed on Jean's kobicha-colored eyes, communicating the seriousness of the situation. He held out a sealed manila envelope to him.

"Oh. I got it. No problem." Jean took it from him, intent on hurrying so that he could catch up with his friend.

"He should be in his office. Thanks. I'll see you Monday in class." And with that, Coach Ackerman was off, walking swiftly toward the faculty parking lot.

Jean jogged toward the school, knowing that Coach Smith had his office in the swimming pool's gym, where the boys' swimming team had their lockers and showers. He was the sports department chair, but also coached the swimming team. Jean pushed open the door that housed the school's pool, his cleats clacking against the tile as he walked alongside the length of the blue jewel-like rectangle. It was a sauna in there, making fresh perspiration begin to coat his already sweaty and dirty body. Surprisingly, the pool had an occupant, hair hidden under a black swimming cap. The male, whoever he was, was strong. His arms wind-milled around his body in perfect synchronization, legs kicking him forward powerfully. The water cascaded up around him and splashed back down as the swimmer knifed through the water. Jean's eyebrows arched at the pure athleticism it must take to maneuever one's body so flawlessly like that through the pool. It took a kind of athletic grace he would never be able to muster.

The swimmer wasn't alone, though. Jean finally glanced toward the far end of the pool where a smaller boy was watching the swimmer's progress on the very edge of the outside of the pool, right hand curved around a stopwatch. He vaguely recognized the boy--a sophomore? a junior? He didn't really stand out too much in school, though the male had hair so light it appeared gray and the color was out of the ordinary. How unfortunate for him, Jean thought in passing. He finally made his way into the locker room, making his way to the corner where Coach Smith had his office.

He heard the deep timbre of the coach's voice through the closed door. Jean rapped his knuckles on it, still in a hurry to get back to Marco.

"Just a minute!" The coach didn't even have to raise his voice much in order to be heard. Jean sighed impatiently, not really caring for the chlorinated smell that smothered his breathing. It wasn't natural, like the smell of the soccer field or trees or . . . cinnamon. Ugh. He had it bad.

Jean was not the most disciplined person when it came to waiting. Leaning against the wall near the office, he let his head fall back softly against the blue and green tiled wall. He stretched out his legs a bit as he waited, contemplating just shoving the manila envelope under the door and taking off. But no, that wouldn't do.

He was in the middle of rolling his shoulders when he heard a high and enthusiastic male voice and the sound of wet feet slapping against the floor . Must be that kid, Jean thought dismissively, now proceeding to roll his head around in small circles, eyes closed in concentration. Ahhhh, it felt so good, he hmmmed, body starting to unwind.

"--and I was wondering if you could give me some tips on butterfly. It's my worst--" suddenly the voice stopped. Jean eased his eyes open slowly, and then stiffened. There, in front of him, the kid stood with a confused look on his face, mouth still open from forming the next words he would have spoken. But next to him, and a step or two closer to Jean, was Rin Matsuoka. And they were both staring at him.

Jean didn't even really see the smaller teenager. He was a piece of background, a bothersome fly, a weed. His eyes, his brain, immediately found Rin, used to seeking after him amongst other people only after a week of knowing him. His heart leapt as if he were a sprinter in a race and jumping over hurtles, trying to get to the finish line. thump Thump thump Thump thump Thump pumped his heart.

At first he only saw Rin's face, a mixture of confusion and some other emotion that Jean couldn't readily identify. Surprise? He couldn't be sure. His hair was a mess, somewhat flattened by the swimming cap he must have been wearing. It only seemed to add to his attractiveness. The redhead's perfect lips protruded outwards a bit, and goddamn did they look so kissable. Jean wondered if Rin knew exactly just how beautiful he was. But then--his eyes took a walk slowly downward, having a mind of their own. Rin had no shirt on--he was only wearing swimming pants. His chest, oh fuck. His chest was a mass of firmly defined musculature, beads of water still trickling down to the rest of his body. Jean was tracing lines with his eyes around those pecs, moving up to his shoulders. He had had no idea just how built Rin really was. Oh god--Jean felt himself become slightly unsteady. Did he wobble just now? No. But his mind had become a little unglued just then.

Rin's shoulders were indeed strong, as he had deduced on that first day when the male had sat down in the empty desk in front of him. The soccer captain's eyes roamed over the the muscles of his biceps, his triceps, down to the definition in the forearms of the swimmer. Jean's breath quickened, feeling a heat begin to gather in his groin. With his free hand, he grabbed the wrist that held the manila folder, moving it so that it covered the beginnings of an arousal by instinct, suddenly very glad that his athletic cup would hide most of it.

He couldn't help himself. He let his eyes meander over to the male's abs--oh sweet Jesus. Jean would have taken a hit to his self-confidence had it been any other male. But right now, all he wanted to do was touch Rin's creamy skin, explore it with his hands, see for himself up close the perfection of the swimmer, feel the shape of his muscles underneath his palm. And then--oh no. Rin's swimming pants covered him from waist to ankle. They were black with flares of red down the sides. But that wasn't what had Jean tightening his grip on the manila folder and unconsciously biting the skin on the inside of his mouth. The pants left almost nothing to the imagination. He could see every ripple of muscle in the redhead's calves, thighs . . . and the protuding bulge of his crotch.

_That's not fucking fair._

"Um. . . are you. . . talking to me?" said the deep and sensuous voice of Rin, sounding hesitant.

"Huh?" _What?_  Jean's eyes snapped up to meet the redhead's questioning face.

"You said . . . something. Just now."

_Oh shit._

Jean wanted to kick himself in his own mouth. He briefly considered the physics that it would involve, if it were at all possible. "Um . . . " he muttered unintelligibly, not able to manage more than that.

All of this passed in the span of a handful of seconds or so, enough time for the soccer captain to commit it all to memory. Embarrassed with himself, he clenched his eyes shut. _What the fuck Jean?_ , he thought crushingly. _How do I keep getting myself into these situations with him around?_

"What are you doing in here?" the underclassman finally asked, half curiously and half defensively, a frown on his face. He knew better as an underclassman than to outright question someone he recognized as an upperclassman, and someone who was bigger than him to boot.

Jean opened his eyes, fixing the urchin with an unthreatening glare, one he usually saved for underperforming soccer teammates. In other words, it was close to his usual expression. He held up the envelope, his half-arousal gone once he had realized he had spoken out loud. The smaller boy nodded, and then the two members of the swim team started walking away when the door to Coach Smith's office opened, saving Jean from an embarrassing situation.

Out came Seijuro Mikoshiba, and Jean felt his annoyance rise. _Ugh, this guy_. Coach Smith was a step behind him, holding the door open. The towering swim team captain stepped close to Jean, carroty hair still wet from the pool or a shower, golden-brown eyes gleaming at the sight of Jean. Clearly, he was ignorant of the concept of personal space. Or he didn't care.

"Kirstein. Ackerman said you were bringing these by. Thanks." Jean looked over to the coach in the doorway, blond hair perfectly in place, chest muscles defined under a tight white t-shirt. He held out a large hand, and Jean quickly placed the envelope in it.

And then the Coach's blue eyes swept over the scene, taking in Rin and the urchin's presence. Despite Jean's discomfort at the situation and desire to leave, he was curious. He wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to learn more about Rin.

"Aiichiro, Matsuoka. How did the rest of your late practice go?" The coach's arms were folded against his huge chest. Though he was aggravated, Jean hid a grin. AIICHIRO. URCHIN. It sounded very similar. The nickname fit.

"Errmmm . . . great! Rin has increased his best time for butterfly! We are going to stay after on Monday, too." Aiichiro, the small teenager apparently, had blue eyes that were bright with enthusiasm.

"Wonderful. That's great to hear. Matusoka, keep it going. We need your strength for the practice meets coming up soon." Coach Smith nodded to them, and then returned to his office, shutting the door behind his massive frame.

Jean was about to take a step toward the doorway, when Seijuro laid a hand on his shoulder.  _Ugh, this bastard._

"How's the soccer team coming this year?" Jean looked up to see the male's intense eyes fixed on his. He felt a thumb moving slowly across the length of his collarbone. _That son of a bitch, get your hands off of me._

"Everything is good. Coach Ackerman has us working hard." He stepped side-ways out of the grasp, swatting the male's hand off of him. Seijuro was good-looking in a hulking, muscly kind of way, but not Jean's type at all. He preferred longer, dark red hair. Cognac eyes. Intelligence. Kind-heartedness. If that was even a type. But Seijuro seemed to not get the not-so-obvious hints that Jean was not interested in him. Even after he flat out turned him down on several occasions.

"Mmmm. That's good. Good luck on your match next week." Seijuro knew their schedule? He just never gave up, did he? The hulk of a male smiled at him a little too long deliberately, and then walked out of the locker room without addressing his teammates.

Jean glanced quickly in Rin's direction before he could stop himself. Why were the both of them still standing there? True, Aiichiro looked like he wanted to get moving, but was reluctant to to leave without Rin. The redheaded male, however, was frowning at the entrance of their locker room, where Seijuro had just exited. _Did he not get along with the captain?_

 _Say something, SAY SOMETHING._ "Hey, um, Rin." He was so glad he got his name right. The redhead looked over at him in surprise. "I saw you in the pool, earlier. That was amazing. Really." It was all he had in him. His face flushed. TIME TO LEAVE, Jean told himself and propelled his body forward.

"Thank you." Jean glanced over to Rin, seeing a soft smile on his face. The soccer captain froze, eyes wide. Then the redhead turned and walked away, joining an anxious Aiichiro. Jean's heart sputtered like a failed motorcyle kickstart. _He just smiled.  At me._  A happy grin, one not usually seen on Jean, worked its way onto his face.

Jean realized he hadn't moved out of the locker room. He walked forward once again, thoughts in a happy swirl. Maybe Rin hadn't noticed him quickly taking in the wonder that was his body.

The redhead, at first claiming his eyes with his combination of beauty and raw attractiveness, had later drawn him in through overhearing the conversations he had with others around him. Rin was very smart and effortlessly kind. Passionate about his opinions, though he never tried to be aggressive with changing someone's mind about something. Jean, when determinedly trying to focus on their Physics labs, had found himself unconsciously turning his head to look at and listen to Rin as he recounted stories from Australia, with an excited smile and cognac eyes animated. Jean had been captivated by the stories. Not so much by what Rin had described, but the way he told them, with energy and a radiance that had seemed to come over him. It made Jean want to be on the receiving end of that radiance, too. And just a few moments earlier, he had been privy to seeing the male half-naked, and it had set his blood racing to the tune of the likes of some crazily high BPM electronic music. It was the final nail in the coffin. Every piece of Jean's being was in tune to Rin.

As Jean walked out of the swimming pool area, he regained the faculties of his mind. He shook his head a little, a blush working its way across his cheeks again as he thought of the sight he had just seen. He was surprised to see that the locker room was practically empty, most of the team having already showered, changed, and left. Marco was nowhere to be found. He kicked off his well-worn cleats, derobing himself of the rest of his dirty and sweaty clothing. Making a note to himself to call his friend as soon as he was on his way home, Jean grabbed his towel and headed over to the showers.

 

* * *

 

Jean hurried out to his car, taking a look up at the clouds that had seemed to darken even more since he had last been outside. It was going to rain any minute. As he made his way across the parking lot, he tried calling Marco. It rang and rang, going to voicemail. _Dammit_ , Jean thought. His friend always picked up. He sent him a quick text, then started his car.

Shiganshina High School was located in the middle of a residential area. There were no heavily trafficked streets in the immediate vicinity. Their town itself was a village, never much going on. Jean pulled out of the student parking lot, contemplating whether or not he should just show up at his friend's house unannounced. He had done so on previous occasions, and was always welcome by the Botts. And they didn't live too far away from each other, either.

He decided on heading over to his best friend's house as the first few heavy drops of rain came down. Driving down the road, houses lining the street on either side, he saw a lone occupant walking. It was starting to rain harder now, the wipers on Jean's car making a rubbery squeak as they moved back and forth across his windshield. As he got closer, he recognized the individual from behind because of their clothing. And the unmistakable hair color. Rin.

Jean put the brakes on his car, coming to a sudden stop in the middle of the road. What should he do? He knew that it was going to downright pour any minute now. And that Rin would get soaked. He didn't want that to happen to him. But if he offered him a ride and Rin said no then he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle the rejection. Because who would turn down a ride in these pending weather conditions?

His car continued idling on the residential road, Rin some distance ahead of him. And then Jean remembered his thoughts from earlier. To try and move forward with this, and not shrink away. His determination. He could do this. He felt his eyes narrow with resolution. Not to mention, all feelings for the redhead aside, it would be pretty rude of him to not offer someone he knew--however little that may be-- a ride home when it was going to be potentially disastrous outside.

He moved his foot to the gas, car easing ahead slowly. Within ten seconds, he was parallel to Rin, the redhead eyeing the sky as he walked on the sidewalk. Jean rolled down the passenger side window, fingertips tapping anxiously on the steering wheel.

"Hey! Rin! Do you need a ride?"

The redhead stopped walking, turning his body and bending to see who was speaking to him. He squinted slightly. "Jean? Um, thanks but I'm okay." He ran a hand through his red locks, keeping the palm at the base of his neck.

Jean felt his face fall. Rin didn't want to ride with him. He probably was disgusted with him from earlier. For a few seconds, Jean considered hightailing it out of there quickly. But he couldn't do that. If Rin was caught in this storm, he could get sick. And there were no stores of any kind within a few mile's range of where they were to take refuge in. He told himself that even if it were Eren out there walking, he would ask again.

He tried once more, his voice matter of fact, "It's about to be a maelstrom out here. You would get soaked. Possibly sick. Wouldn't that affect your swimming?"

Rin considered this, shifting his bag onto his shoulder in a more comfortable position. He walked over to the open passenger window. "I don't want to be an inconvenience." He smiled apologetically.

"Oh! You wouldn't be an inconvenience at all. I'm headed in this direction anyways."

Rin nodded at this, but his forehead creased in worry. "As long as you're sure . . ."

"I am. Really." Jean unlocked his car doors, and Rin threw his bag in the backseat.

"Thanks," he said as he got in. "I'm a few miles away from here." He gave some basic directions, and Jean knew the general area he lived in. Mikasa and Eren lived nearby. He started off, trying not to stare at the way Rin's red hair was damp from the rain, or how it fell across his cheek even though he had tried to tuck some of it behind his ear. Jean noticed that he was able to immediately detect Rin's distinct fragrance. It must have rubbed off on his clothing throughout the day. It was very appealing.

"Do you normally walk home after your practices?" He felt it was the best place to start a conversation.

"Mmm. No. I stayed too late today and missed the late bus." Rin was looking at the windshield as the rain came down harder. The redhead's phone vibrated, but he ignored it, not even glancing at the display.

"Oh. Well. If you ever need a ride, just let me know." Jean surprised himself by the offer. He and Rin weren't even friends, so the expanse of the offer might sound awkward.

Rin turned his beautiful eyes to him, also surprised. "Oh, thanks. That's very . . . nice . . . of you." He turned back to eye the rain hitting the windshield. "But I'll try not to miss the bus again."

Jean felt even more like he was failing. Rin couldn't possibly like him, ever. The male had clearly heard his explosive confession of feelings back at school earlier. So he knew how he felt. Maybe the hesitance to get in the car in the first place was Rin trying to let him know that he wasn't interested. To him, Jean was just this creepy guy who rolled on up to almost total strangers and offered them a ride home if they should ever need it. Maybe it was time to throw in the towel. He sighed.

Rin seemed to hear it, and looked down at his hands, clasping them simply in his lap.

They were silent for a minute or two, but then Rin's phone started vibrating again. He was getting a phone call. The redhead checked his phone's display, then tucked it back into his hoodie's front pocket.

"You're not . . .gonna answer?" Jean questioned.

"No. I'm here with you. That would be rude of me to answer. Besides, I'm sure he will just try calling or texting again in a few minutes, anyways." Rin sounded half-amused, half-aggravated.

"Oh." Jean reddened slightly at his words. I'm here with you. But then his doubt creeped back in. _Jackass!  He most likely didn't mean anything by it!  And this "he" . . . was that maybe a boyfriend?_ Jean pondered that possibility in his mind.

The brunet felt the need to apologize to Rin burning through him. As much as he was attracted to the redhead on every level, he didn't want to . . . dishonor him that way. He respected him, wanted to do right by him. And by ogling him like that in the locker room with no shame felt wrong. Maybe it was a little old-fashioned. But Rin deserved to be looked at in wonder and desire at the right time, the right place. He deserved someone that was going to hold his hand, kiss his face sweetly, want to learn about him....

"Rin," he said quietly. The redhead turned his head toward him, not entirely sure he had heard his name. "I want to apologize to you."

"Apologize to me?" Rin looked confused. "About what?"

Jean took a deep breath in, and then let it out slowly. "About . . . in the locker room."

Rin's mouth opened and then closed. "I don't know what you're talking about. What is there to apologize about?"

Jean chanced a glance toward the redhead. He looked genuine, and his gaze met the brunet's directly.

"Uh, well . . .when you came in to the locker room. . . I kind of . . . " Jean's voice faded off, and he realized the totality of what he was apologizing for. _This is so damn embarrassing._ "Never mind."

"Hey, wait. You can't just do that. Bring up a subject and then just drop it like that." There was a light amusement in his voice. "Just . . .tell me." And there was something insistent in his voice, a deep need to know. Rin turned his face toward the front of the car.

Jean was won over, but no less awkward. "Well. When you and that kid came in, I kind of, um, uh . . ." he flushed a deep red. "well you surprised me. I didn't expect you to be there. So I uh, was looking at you."

Rin smiled at him, encouraging his confession along. "Why would you need to apologize for that? I was looking at you, too."

"Well, see, I meant that I was . . . looking at . . . your body." Jean gave up. He winced, expecting to hear disgust. He didn't hear that. He didn't hear anything. The brunet looked over at Rin, who was biting his lip and looking straight ahead. And was he blushing? Jean couldn't tell. Maybe that was his regular complexion.

After a moment, Rin finally breathed out. "That is nothing to apologize over, seriously. But thank you. People look at the bodies of swimmers all the time. And if it were you doing it, I . . . can't say I'd mind." And then he looked completely away from Jean, face turned toward the window.

 _What does he mean by that?_  Jean furrowed his brows, trying to wrap his intelligent brain around it. _Where was Marco when he needed him?  Oh that's right, you're headed there soon._

They lapsed into a brief silence again, though it wasn't uncomfortable. The rain pelted the vehicle, creating a pleasant rhythmic tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rin fidget, glance his way and then back down to his hands.

"So . . .Seijuro. He's a friend of yours?" He asked this hesitantly, as if he hadn't wanted to ask in the first place.

"Oh god no. We aren't friends. HE might like to think we are."

"Hmmm," Rin looked out the window again.

"What's that smell?" Jean asked suddenly, out of the blue. He had been thinking about Rin's scent--surely some sort of fragrance. But it had come out all wrong. Probably because he hadn't thought of how to say it before he blurted it all out.

Rin turned toward him, a small frown marring his beautiful features. "Smell? Do I smell? Um... well... maybe there's still some chlorine--" he started to sniff himself.

"Oh, no no no. I'm sorry. Uh, that's not what I meant." Jean sighed in frustration. "I noticed that you have--that there's a scent around you?" He reddened spectacularly. "Like a woodsy-cinnamon type smell."

"Oh." Realization came into Rin's eyes, but then he frowned again. "Does it smell bad to you?"

"Not at all," Jean said quickly. "I just hadn't ever smelled anything like it. It's . . .pleasant. To smell. I mean pleasant to smell that scent around." He cringed at his words.

Rin was now smiling, eyeing him out of the corner of his eye. Jean though, was too busy beating himself up on the inside to tell.

"I'm glad that you think it's pleasant to smell me." Rin's velvety voice was amused, the smile lingering on his face. Jean had to take a right at a stop-sign, so he took extra time at the stop to look left and thus away from Rin's direction. He needed a few seconds, but once he faced forward, the redness was gone from his cheeks.

"Actually, they are essential oils. My younger sister mixed it for me." Rin was animated as he got into his story, and Jean felt himself unable to stop from glancing at his face. "She has an Etsy shop and everything. She does this thing where she 'analyzes your aura' and then comes up with a mixture that 'fits' you. Apparently sandalwood and cinnamon suits me."

Jean didn't know what to say about that. He just didn't want to say something idiotic again and ride the rest of the way in embarrassment.

"Do you think that's weird?" Rin asked, somewhat anxiously, glancing at him briefly.

The brunet blinked a couple of times rapidly. "I think it suits you, too."  _I did it again.  I should just die._

A brief silence fell between them again, and Jean felt so awkward about himself. He was not used to feeling this way at all. Feeling unsure of himself, struggling for the correct words, trying hard not to say the wrong ones. Here he was, with the first person that had ever caused him to act erratically because of how much he felt attracted to them, and he was totally flubbing it. He couldn't even manage to have a proper conversation with him. Jean snorted. Rin would probably eschew any future attempts on his part to be friends.

"What's so funny?" Rin was looking back at him, eyebrows knit, but a small smile on his face, wanting to know the joke.

"Um, nothing. So . . . you said you were in Australia for a year? Was it for swimming?" It was the first thing he thought of that would be a safe topic of conversation.

"Yeah. They have good training facilities there. Australia is a powerhouse for churning out top swimmers." Rin sighed, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie.

Jean could tell that it was somehow a touchy subject. "Then you're new to the area? You moved here after coming back from Australia?"

"Actually, no. I went to Iwatobi before that. My house sits pretty much where the two districts meet. So my sister and I got to choose which high school we wanted to go to. All of my friends were going to Iwatobi, so there really was no decision to make."

Jean was confused. "So why then did you start at Shiganshina? If you had already gone to Iwatobi?"

Silence. Jean reddened, this time in chagrin. "Hey, I'm sorry. . .I didn't mean . . . Just ignore me. I'm stupid, sometimes." _You do this to me_ , he thought.

Rin looked over at him, eyes wide. "No, no, you're not. It's just, well . . ." He seemed to be considering his words.

"Part of it was Shiganshina's swimming program. It's better than Iwatobi's." Jean hadn't known this. Frankly, he didn't know much about the talent level of other sports at their high school. He should do something about that.

"And another part was I felt like an idiot." This was not what Jean had been expecting. He glanced over at Rin, who was again looking at his clasped hands in his lap. The brunet noticed that Rin seemed to do this when he was nervous or embarrassed.

"An idiot?" He frowned. "How could that be? You're so smart. And amazing at everything you do . . . " he trailed off, looking straight ahead, making a pretense of adjusting his wipers to match the strength of the rain. He was so used to just saying what was on his mind. And now, with Rin around, doing so would prove potentially hurtful. When he inevitably would be turned down and then he would crawl away to the depths of despair.

But Rin looked up at him with reddened cheeks, touched. "Thanks. But I'm not . . .all that great at things." He was silent for a moment, thinking. "The rest is kind of a long story. And we're almost at my house anyways. It's there, the second house on the left. . . oh no." He groaned.

"What? What is it?" Jean looked over at him in concern briefly, pulling into Rin's driveway.

"That pushy blond penguin," he muttered, but his eyes were alight with amusement.

"Huh?"

"My friend, Nagisa, is here. The one that was calling and texting me just now. Looks like he's with his boyfriend Rei as well. Ughhh." Rin rolled down his window.

"Rin! You're finally home! We've been waiting for you," warbled an enthusiastic blond boy, hand waving at them in greeting. Jean could tell he was smaller than both he and Rin, but seemed to have a naturally happy disposition.

"Hello Nagisa. Hello Rei. What are you two doing here?" Jean could only see the back of Rin's head, but he didn't sound completely displeased by their presence.

"We came to see you, silly! It's been over a year now. Hey, is that your boyfriend?" Nagisa was moving around in the seat of his car to try and get a better look at Jean, reddish eyes wide. "Rin, he's hot!"

"Nagisa!" His somewhat concealed companion chastised, adjusting his glasses with one hand. "That's not exactly appropriate of you to ask at this time."

Jean's eyes had widened at the question. Did that mean that Rin was gay? Meanwhile, the redhead pulled back from the window, putting his head in his hands.

"Oh my god. Please ignore him. I do most of the time, anyways."

"Okay . . . "

"Rinnnn! Oh, Rinnnn!"

Rin turned back to the window. "Nagisa! No, he is not my boyfriend, okay? His name is Jean." Here Jean gave a little wave. "He's . . . a friend of mine. From school. Just give me a minute and you guys can come in, all right?"

"Just a minute, huh? Is your _friend_  Jean joining us? Because that would--"

Here Rin rolled up the window, the rest of Nagisa's words going unheard. He turned his body so his back was blocking the window and he could face Jean squarely.

"Jean, I am so sorry--"

But the brunet was laughing. Rin gazed at him in shock. He had expected Jean to be offended. Most people couldn't handle Nagisa for very long.

"It's okay! Really. No need to apologize. He seems to be a fun guy."

Rin laughed at that. "You say that now. If you were around him for a couple of hours you might be telling a different story."

The rain poured down around them, and now Rin gazed briefly outside of the car before returning his eyes to Jean's. "By the way. Thanks for the ride. And for listening. It actually means a lot to me to have someone I can talk to from school."

Jean's feelings felt so intense at that moment. To be in such close proximity to the redhead and having his full attention had his heart pumping like a triphammer. Rin was so beautiful, so precious. The color of those clear, cognac colored eyes had him mesmerized. The air around them was warm, Rin's scent drawing him in. He wanted to reach forward and lift the redhead's chin higher and kiss his perfect, pink-hued lips. His hand actually started to reach toward the male, but then he caught himself, realizing what he had just been about to do. He played it off like he was adjusting the volume of the music they weren't even listening to in the first place.

"An-Anytime," he said, eyes on the radio dials.

There was a pause, as if Rin were waiting for him to say or do something more. "Alright then. I'll see you . . . Monday? Have a good weekend." And then he was opening his door, moving quickly to then get his bag out of the backseat. Jean watched as the redheaded male ran toward his house, once again admiring the fluidity of the movement. And he found himself wanting to see him swim again. Rin disappeared inside with a last quick wave. The brunet put his car in reverse. As he shifted his head to check if any traffic was behind him, his gaze was interrupted by someone staring at him. There, still in the car, Nagisa had been staring at him unabashedly. When he saw that he had been caught, a smile lit up his face in playful delight, and he waved good-bye.

 _That's a little weird_ , Jean thought, as he held up his own hand in a short wave. He checked the road behind him, a smile on his face as he headed to Marco's.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yard work.
> 
> More Nagisa and Rei.
> 
> A soccer game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this might actually end up being 6 or 7 chapters. They keep having so much to say!

Jean had made it most of the way to Marco's house when his best friend called him. He pulled over to the side of the road, rain still heavily pelting his car and lashing at his windshield.

"Hey, Marco. I was just headed over to your house."

"I'm not there. Good thing I caught you. My dad and I are on our way to my grandparent's house. Apparently their roof is leaking because of the rain so we're gonna take a look at it, maybe have to call in someone to fix it." Marco's voice sounded like he was forcing himself to sound normal, which he probably was considering he was with his father.

"Oh. Ok. I hope it's not a horrible leak. Hey--you said something earlier about food?"

"Yeah. Are you still coming over tomorrow to help with the yard?"

Both he and Marco were only children, which would have made them lonely under other circumstances. However, having a best friend who lived within walking distance made childhood a lot of fun. As younger children, they rode their bicycles to each other's houses and played all kinds of sports together, but mostly soccer. They got to go on vacations with each other's family each summer. Double the vacations! Having each other became just as good, if not better, than having a sibling. They had their time alone to play their games and watch cartoons, but then one would walk through the door just when it was starting to get lonely and then it would be on to the next adventure.

As they grew older, they helped out at each other's houses. This took the form of helping out at yard sales, washing cars, cleaning out the garage, and like tomorrow, doing late summer yard work. It was an unspoken thing, never met with annoyance. The Botts were Jean's family just like the Kirstein's were Marco's. When Jean had come out to the Botts a couple years back, they had the same reaction as his own parents, acceptance and love. Never any worry about how it might change the relationship between the two teenagers. Because they just knew somehow it wouldn't ever change for the worse.

Jean could rationally acknowledge that his best friend was an attractive male, but he had never felt any romatntic feelings for him. And he never would. He grew up with the kid, seeing him through runny noses, bad haircuts, sunburns, skinned knees, and awkward stages of adolescence. Their friendship was solid, unbreakable. Marco was his best friend, brother, other half. And it would always be that way. So when someone came along and hurt Marco, whether or not they were aware of it, Jean was done with them. Wouldn't forgive. Sometimes would lash out with fists or his sharp words. Even if acting that way didn't make sense. And in the case of Annie and Bert, two people he already didn't care for, it was just two more people that he would glower at in school when he saw them. Permanent x's beside their names in his book.

"Yeah, around 10 still good?"

"Sure."

"Oh, and just so you know, you're paying tomorrow, you turd."

"Hmph." Jean could tell his friend was now smiling. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

The two teenagers spent their Saturday morning outside at the Bott's house, weeding the flower garden in front of the house and in the backyard, planting some bulbs, mulching, and pruning a few rose bushes. Though it was in the mid 60's outside, they were both sweating from the exercise of working on the yard, carrying heavy bags of mulch around, hauling bags of plucked weeds and stones to the garbage cans. Their legs and arms were dirty from coming into contact with soil and grass. It was nothing new to them as soccer players.

"How was the roof at your grandparent's house?" Jean asked, wiping sweat from his face as they finished up with the garden maintenance.

"Not so good, actually. It was only leaking in one spot, but a few shingles around it have to be replaced, and it needs some work. My parents are there now, with an inspector."

Jean hmmmed. "Well, maybe it's a good thing they caught it now, before the snow hits." Marco nodded.

They moved on to clearing out the yard of rotting apples on the grass, Jean thinking it would be a good time to bring up the Annie situation.

"So. Marco. About Annie--"

"I know what you're probably going to say about it. And you're right." Marco's crawled beside him, chucking apples into a garbage bag. "Somehow, you're always right about people. She and Bert are definitely more suited for each other than she and I are. It just stings, is all."

"Well, I wasn't going to say that. . . I mean, I _kind of_  was. Thanks though, for letting me know I'm always right-" here Marco lobbed an apple at him, and Jean yelped.

"What I was _going to say_  was that I'm sorry. It sucks. And . . ." here he turned his back to his friend in order to continue gathering a few more apples. "In a way, I'm glad."

"You're glad?" Marco stilled, confused. He directed a glance over at his friend, who still had his back turned to him, movements intentionally slow as he dragged out gathering the last few apples.

"Yeah. She--she wasn't, she wouldn't have been right for you. You're everything good, and honorable, you know. You deserve better. The best." Jean felt awkward, his words stilted. He never spoke to his best friend like this, he communicated largely through sarcasm and his actions. But he felt that this was something Marco needed to hear. He turned back toward his friend.

Marco's brows were knit, lips pushed together. "Thanks, man," he said, touched. He knew it had probably been hard for Jean to say it.

Jean had enough. "So pick someone better next time, shithead."

They were done with the apples on the ground, then finished up by picking some good ones from the tree for Marco's mom. "She's gonna make a pie just for me, right?" Jean asked. Marco rolled his eyes, a smile on his face.

"Doesn't she always?"

All in all, it had taken a good while to finish up all of their tasks, and by early afternoon both of their stomachs were growling. They hopped in Marco's old Jeep, still clad in their old t-shirts and shorts, sweat cooling as they rolled down the windows.

"You stink."

"No, _you_  stink." Jean looked out of his window, light brown hair fluttering in the breeze. "So where are we going for food?"

"Mmmm. I was thinking Mary & John's. I want some of their sweet potato fries."

"Perfect."

The restaurant was casual-style dining. Customers walked in, placed their order at the front, were given a table number, and then some time later their food was brought out to them. A server would come and refill drinks from time to time. It was their favorite place to eat, providing big portions of tasty food. As children, both sets of parents would take them here after soccer games, win or lose. As their parents would chat away familiarly, they would dip their fries liberally in ketchup and get it all over their faces. And on their clothes. Sometimes smearing it on each other intentionally.

They walked into Mary & John's, Jean's stomach rumbling again at the mere smell of chicken fingers and onion rings. Marco laughed at the longing expression on his friend's face as they approached the order counter.

"Hello, welcome to Mary & John's, what would you like today?" recited a high male voice.

Jean had been gazing at the menu above the window, wondering just how much food he could pack into his demanding stomach, but then his eyes snapped toward their cashier at recognizing his voice. The urchin.

Aiichiro seemed to recognize him in the same instant, an uncertain frown marking his features. Marco noticed his friend's reaction and elbowed him, trying to get him to snap out of it. The freckled male stepped forward first, ordering his food. As Jean stepped forward to take his turn, the brunet saw the urchin looking somewhere behind him in the kitchen, mouth open, as if he wanted to say something. But then he turned back around to Jean, waiting for him to place his order.

The two friends took a booth near the back, setting their table number in clear sight.

"What was that all about?" Marco questioned, sipping on his soda.

Jean hadn't told Marco yet about him giving Rin a ride home. "That kid, Aiichiro. He's on the swim team. He was in the locker room yesterday when I went to give Coach Smith those forms from Short Stack." The two of them could get away with referring to their coach as his nickname when away from other people, and far from the coach himself.

"Okay. So? He looked like he was scared of you or something. What'd you do to the kid, take away his teddy bear?"

Jean glared at his friend. "Very funny. No . . . well . . .Rin was with him. He's on the swimming team, too."

Marco's eyes widened in understanding. "Ohhhh. How'd that go?"

"Uh, actually I thought it was bad at first. I kinda made an ass of myself." Marco shrugged as if he would have expected that of him. The brunet glared at him again. "But then . . . I uh, gave him a ride home."

"What?!" Marco yelped, surprised. Jean glanced around the restaurant. It wasn't particularly busy, but the noise level inside was still such that his voice hadn't carried too far. The urchin at the front was taking an order, too busy to pay them any attention.

"Yeah, " Jean said sheepishly, a grin working its way onto his face despite himself. "And we got to talk--"

They were interrupted by their server bringing them their food. "Hello, here's your food . . ."

Jean looked up, eyes wide and blood rushing to his extremities. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. It was Rin. Silence fell over the table as the brunet stared at the redhead, shocked, not at all expecting him to be working here, a place he had eaten at time after time. He had been entirely caught off guard by Rin. And for anything or anybody else, he was a quick thinker and relied on his instincts. Swift to act. He pretty much had to, in order to be successful in soccer. But right how his brain was failing him, miserably.

And Rin was staring right back at him. His stunning cognac eyes were startled, a thick strand of hair falling over his forehead. His mouth was slightly open, creating a beautiful oval shape out of his lips. The redhead's cheeks reddened, painting a completely alluring picture in front of Jean.

"Oh hey, Rin!" Marco said brightly, breaking the spell. Movements resumed, and Jean turned his eyes to the tabletop.

"Hi. Um, here's your food. Uh, ok well do you need anything else right now? Refills?" Rin's voice wavered, and Jean prayed that Marco would just send him away so he could recover himself. He had not been prepared. At all. And when the radiance of Rin suddently presented itself, it was like the Hope diamond, too bright and beautiful for mere commoners such as himself to behold.

"I think we're good for now, thanks," Marco returned with a smile, polite as ever.

Jean could see the back of Rin's dark blue jeans and black sneakers as he walked away. _You dumbass you dumbass you dumbass what were you thinking why did you do that why did you act like that?_

"Jean. What the hell was that?" Marco stage-whispered across the table from him.

The brunet was frustrated with himself. "You know what the hell that was," he whispered back fiercely, eyes narrowed. "I can't seem to do anything right when he's around! When he suddenly shows up like that!"

Marco leaned back in his booth. "You have to get over that," he said in his normal voice. "You can't even seem to see that he reacts to you, too."

"What? You're crazy," Jean said dismissively. "I just . . . weird him out or whatever. And UGH!"

"What? What?" Marco asked, watching as his friend yanked on his t-shirt and a wave of disgust passed over his face.

"I stink!"

Marco tried not to laugh. It was hard not to, seeing as how his friend usually excercised great control over a situation, so seeing him so out of sorts was quite funny. "You're just now realizing that now?"

"No but, he's here and I stink and dammit, I must look like shit . . ."

"Relax, Jean. Maybe he's embarrassed too. That's what it looks like to me."

"And what would he have to be embarrassed about?" Jean swirled the straw in his drink, distracted.

"Uh, well, that you're here and he didn't expect that. And he's working and maybe he smells too, like food and grease."

"Impossible. He probably thinks I'm some sort of _stalker_  or something. Goddammit."

The freckled male pulled a face at him, but Jean wasn't looking at his friend. Instead, the brunet looked down at his food. He wasn't hungry anymore. His sub sandwich, his fries, his drink. Nope. He could get up now and go home and not want to eat. Because Rin had elicited this initial reaction from him.

Marco was not to be put off from eating, however. He opened up a honey packet and squeezed it onto his sweet potato fries, licking his fingers at the extra that had gotten onto his hand. He contemplated his best friend for a moment as he ate a fry, trying to figure out the best way to get to him.

Jean was still looking at his food, wondering if he could just get it to go. Not caring how awkward it might be. FLIGHT. FLIGHT. FLIGHT. And then suddenly there was a loud voice in the restaurant--

"Ohhh, where's Rin? He said he was working today!"

Jean's head snapped up, eyes going to the source. There, in the front of the restaurant and waiting to order, was Nagisa and . . . Rei, was it? The brunet took a deep breath, calming down. He was going to stay.

The duo ordered their food, and then cast their eyes around for a place to sit. Jean had long since turned his attention back to his food, though eating it still remained. Seeing the two teenagers looking around the room out of his peripheral vision, Jean picked up a french fry disinterestedly and popped it in his mouth.

"JEAN!"

Marco looked at his friend with surprised eyes, straw in his mouth, but not taking a drink. It was a comical sight, but Jean wasn't in a very humorous mood. Instead, the brunet looked over as Nagisa headed over to their booth, his tall boyfriend trailing behind. He stood at the side of their table, waiting for recognition.

"Hello, Nagisa."

"You remembered! That's great! We're gonna sit with you." And with that said, Nagisa plopped down beside Marco happily, a smile on his face. He didn't seem to care that it might not be polite that he had invited himself to sit down. He just did what he wanted to do.

Marco gave Jean a look as if to ask, "what the hell?" but Jean just looked back at him helplessly. Rei slipped in beside Jean, and now the brunet was able to see him clearly for the first time. He was tall, built similarly to Rin, with dark-blue dyed hair and indigo colored eyes.

"Oh wait--were you two on a date?" Nagisa's looked between the two of them, then eyed their clothes and sniffed. "Well. . . probably not."

"Nagisa, this is Marco, my best friend. And no, we aren't on a date. We were outside doing yardwork all morning. And Marco happens to be very much straight." Marco was still looking totally confused as to who the two newcomers were, but somehow was still smiling politely all the same, patiently waiting to be introduced.

"But you're gay?" Nagisa asked, with a lilt in his voice. Jean reddened.

"Nagisa . . " Rei sighed from beside Jean, adjusting his red-framed glasses. "Why do you insist on always asking personal questions like that? You've seen how it makes people uncomfortable."

Nagisa ignored the question, beaming. "Marco, this is my gorgeous and smart and talented boyfriend, Rei!"

The tall male reddened slightly, but a shy smile worked its way onto his face nonetheless.

"Nice to meet you both," Marco said politely. "But how do you know Jean?"

"We met him yesterday. At Rin's house, when he was dropping him off. It was looking pretty steamy there for a minute," Nagisa said deviously.

"Nagisa . . ." Rei said again, fruitlessly. Jean felt his face heat up even more now, feeling a return of being awkward approaching. Marco was now staring at his best friend, eyes wide and questioning.

"I'm sorry, Jean. There's something you have to learn about Nagisa. He will pretty much say whatever he wants. Even if its the most embarrassing thing that could be said. Believe me, I know firsthand."

Nagisa smiled proudly, wavy blond hair framing his face and making him look angelic. Though he was anything but, Jean thought wryly.

The four of them started chatting amiably, Jean sharing his fries with the Iwatobi duo. Jean found he didn't really mind Nagisa after all, though Rin had warned him that he might change his mind. He found this surprising because he rarely seemed to like people straight off the bat after meeting them. It took him time to put his trust in anybody. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was Rin's friend, and obviously the two were close. Jean watched closely as Nagisa talked. The blond was a constant stream of energy and enthusiasm, and he wasn't surprised to see Nagisa getting along with the similarly good-natured Marco. Jean even found himself holding a conversation with the much quieter Rei and answering his questions. They talked about their respective participation in soccer and swimming, and soon enough their food was coming.

"Ah, Rin! So nice to see you. Rei and I were just getting to know Jean and Marco."

The redhead set their food on the table, cheeks aflame with mortification. "That's good," he mumbled.

"Why are your cheeks so red?" Nagisa asked curiously, but with an impish grin on his face.

Rin's warm eyes flickered to Jean for a second before answering. "It's uh, hot in the kitchen," he explained.

"Hmmm. Gotcha. By the way, Rei and I asked Haru and Makoto to come with us here today, but we think they said no because they just wanted to have sex."

The completely unexpected nature of the statement had Marco spitting some of his soda back into his cup, spluttering around his surprise. Jean found it amusing, eyes cautiously looking up toward the redhead. Rin was frozen, horrified eyes looking at Jean. . . as if to say,  _This is what I was talking about!_

"What Nagisa failed to mention was, Makoto had to baby-sit his brother and sister. So Haru was going to join them," Rei explained.

Nagisa shrugged, taking a sip of his water. "Yeah, yeah, something like that."

"I didn't know you worked here!" Jean suddenly blurted out, urgently feeling the need to communicate to the redhead that he was not following him around, but it came out all wrong. Oh sweet Jesus, not again.

Everyone's eyes turned to the brunet. Seconds ticked by. Rin shifted as he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Um. Well I started a couple days ago. Aiichiro got me the job." And then he walked away.

Nagisa was watching Jean, eating some chicken tenders dunked heavily in barbeque sauce, saucer-shaped eyes staring unwaveringly at him. He seemed to be contemplating something. Rei was watching his boyfriend warily, eyes trying to communicate a warning. It seemed to work, because Nagisa's expression eased into one of happiness once more, and he grinned at the blue-haired male.

Jean breathed a sigh of relief, finally beginning to dig into his chicken finger sub.

"So what position do you two play on your team?" Rei inquired, choosing a great way to change the quiet that had descended over the table. He seemed genuinely interested in the sport though, and they all threw themselves into converation about the beauty of soccer. Rei's eyes were wide as Marco described how he would have to launch himself across the front of the net.

"Marco . . .you must have . . . amazingly fast reflexes!" Rei said, eyes wide and full of admiration.

Marco shrugged, a shy smile on his face. He was never one to show off or try to be the center of attention.

"When does your season start?" Rei asked, sipping on his water.

"Friday night, actually," Jean said, excited despite himself. "We have a match against Sina High School."

"Ohhhhh, really? Can we come watch you guys play?" Nagisa asked, eyes alight with delight. "We'll have Makoto and Haru come too!"

"Sure!" Marco said with an easy smile. "The more, the merrier. It should be a good game--"

"Jean, can I have your number?!" Nagisa suddenly interrupted, voice full of excitement. "So we can coordinate times to show up and directions?"

The brunet focused on the not-so-innocent cherubic face of Nagisa, trying to figure out what he was playing at. Across from him, Marco was looking amused, enjoying his sweet potato fries.

"Uh, yeah. Okay. Sure." Jean waited for the blond to get his phone out. Nagisa patted at his pockets, looking disappointed.

"Aw, SHUCKS! I must've left it in the car! Can you write it down?" Nagisa smiled winningly at him again, ignoring Rei's warning look.

"Okay . . ." the brunet looked around at the table, nabbing a red crayon meant for children to color with on the paper table mats. He hastily ripped off a section of the paper, writing down his name and number. As he was handing it to Nagisa, Rin returned to provide refills on their drinks, now looking more composed than before.

"Oh hey Rin! What are you doing on Friday night?" Nagisa asked brilliantly. Jean met Marco's eyes briefly, seeing the realization of what Nagisa was about to do hit him at the same time. The brunet started to feel a little panicky again.

"Hmm, nothing as of right now. Why?" Rin set down two waters for Nagisa and Rei, taking their empty glasses.

"Want to hang out with Rei and I? And maybe Haru and Makoto?"

Rei had his head in his hand, looking fixedly down at his plate while he munched on his food. Almost as if to say, "I had no part in this tomfoolery."

"Sure, sounds good to me," Rin smiled tenatively.

"GREAT! Because we are going to Jean and Marco's game! At your school! Doesn't that sound like fun??"

Jean looked up and over to see Rin reddening again, mouth open to try and form words that wouldn't come out. _He doesn't want to go, this must be so embarrassing for him too.  Nagisa is being weird about this whole thing._

"Nagisa, maybe another time?" Jean felt himself speaking up, trying to get the blond to look at him. The last thing he wanted was for Rin to agree to come just because he felt obligated to do so. The redhead was nice enough to do something like that, he knew. "Rin probably had something else in mind. Not sitting around for a couple of hours watching some soccer."

"No. No--I want to." The seriousness of his voice had the brunet looking again at the redhead. Their eyes met, kobicha colliding with cognac in an endless cycle of intensity. "I would really like that."

 _He wants to come see us play? He wants to come see us play._  Jean just stared back at Rin, excitement gathering in him at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Rin found him . . .intriguing? _Because why else would he look at me like that?_

The longer they looked at each other, the more color appeared on Rin's face, turning even his ears a nice shade of red. Jean couldn't help it--the strands of red hair that fell into his face, the warmth of his eyes, the narrow shape of his chin, all had him locked in. He wanted to clamber over Rei right now, even if it meant tripping and falling on his face. Then he would needily pull Rin toward him, his hands squeezing gently on those angular hips. Claim those naturally pinkish lips in a kiss just as passionate as his feelings for the male were. Reach up a hand and softly touch those burning cheeks with his own cool palm. Memorize each minute detail of his face.

Rei seemed to assess the situation, and reacted before Nagisa could utter something else ridiculous or revealing. "Well, great then. I, for one, am excited to observe your game next week. Sounds like it will be an excellent match."

The interruption worked. Rin smiled endearingly, and Jean felt himself growing to cherish that exact look on his face. The redhead left to see to other tables, and the brunet saw him glance once over in their direction as he walked by a few minutes later.

"It sure is nice to see him happy," Nagisa remarked, and then pointedly looked at Jean.

"Yeah, I bet it's hard to make friends at a new school," Jean commented off-handedly.

The three males looked at him in disbelief. "What?" he asked defensively. Marco just shook his head at him.

Jean Kirstein had no dating experience, and really was oblivious to his own good looks. Girls had responded to Marco and Eren for years since elementary school. They were both good-looking in an obvious way. One look at them was enough to make girls blush and stammer. But Jean, on the other hand, was attractive in an unconventional way. His brown eyes were often narrowed in concentration, though his usual sarcastic nature made others just assume he was in a perpetually bad mood. When he had a crush on Armin, it was more of an admiration from afar--he had never done anything about it. And with Seijuro, the swimming captain, the carroty-haired male left no room for doubt that he was actively seeking Jean's attention and company. So when it came to Rin, the whole situation was entirely new to him, because he hadn't ever tried to win over someone's affections. Though the male aced all of his classes, he was ignorant of anything romantically related.

Jean and Marco got up to leave a few mintues later, saying their goodbye's to Nagisa and Rei. The brunet sort of trailed behind his freckle-faced friend as they headed out the door, eyes scanning for Rin to say a quick goodbye without trying to be obvious about it. He must've been busy in the back, because Jean didn't see him.

Back in Marco's Jeep and halfway back to his house, Jean could see his friend staring at him out of the corner of his eye, waiting for him to speak. But the brunet was lost in thought, his mind fixed on a certain person, like a compass pointing steadily north.

* * *

In class on Monday, Jean was eagerly anticipating Rin's arrival in AP American Lit. He had his body turned to the side so that he could talk to Marco behind him, though he kept glancing every few seconds or so to see if the redhead had come in yet.

"Calm down," Marco said quietly, "You don't want to blurt out something crazy again, do you?"

Jean closed his eyes. "You're right. I'll try."

"Well don't look now, because he just walked in."

Jean blinked his eyes open, trying to think of something to say to Marco so that it appeared as if they were having a conversation, but his mind was drawing a blank.

"Hi Jean. Marco." The brunet turned his body around to the front, able to glimpse a smile on Rin's face as he sat down in his seat.  _He just said hi to me._

"Hey. Rin." The redhead turned around halfway in his desk.

"Yeah?"

"So, uh. Nagisa has been texting me non-stop since we saw him at the restaurant."

He meant to say it to get Rin to laugh with him, but the redhead looked mortified instead. "Oh, hey, I'm sorry about that. I'll get him to stop." He started to turn back around.

"No! It's fine. I don't mind at all." Rin turned back around, a doubtful expression on his face.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's funny. He keeps trying to get me to watch this anime show on Netflix."

Rin looked at him knowingly. "Is it the one with the humans trying to fight off these giant creatures that just eat the humans?"

"Yeah, that's the one. I forget what it's called. Anyways, I was thinking I might watch it."

"It's pretty good. Let me know what you think."

The bell rang then, and Rin turned back around in his seat with a smile, leaving Jean to admire him from behind. The rest of the day and week went like this, with them getting in little snippets of conversation here and there in their shared classes. In Physics, Jean found he was able to stand pretty close to Rin while comparing results on their labs without making an ass out of himself anymore. Though he found himself breathing in his scent whenever he had the chance. More than once, he had been mesmerized by Rin's beauty, his voice, his laugh, and had simply stared dumbly. The redhead had turned to him during one of these occasions, and they had just . . . looked at each other, connecting without words.

Mikasa, upon seeing this happen, kicked Marco's shin lightly. He saw what she was looking at, and he smiled at his friend. _Finally_ , he thought, _he's starting to get it_.

In school on Friday, the soccer team wore their green and gold jerseys to class, Jean with a number 6 across his back and Marco with a number 7. They had worn the same numbers for years now. As a way to ramp up energy for the game, each of the team had war paint of varying design applied to their faces. Conny Springer was surprisingly good with coming up with designs. For Jean, Conny had stepped back a minute, considering his face. He painted three diagonal lines across the length of his face, gold, green, gold. The male had nodded, happy with his work.

In his first class, people were commenting on the soccer team's face paint, excited for the game.

"That looks good," Rin said simply, gesturing toward Jean's face before pivoting around to face the front of the room. Jean sat still, stunned. _What did he mean? Of course, everyone is complimenting the job Conny did. That must be it._  

Soon enough, it was Friday night, and their game was set to start in half an hour or so. Nagisa had texted Jean all day long, informing him that yes, he and Rei were still coming with Rin. The blond also told him how his two other friends were going to be able to make it, too. And then sent him a picture of a penguin randomly. Jean felt his excitement ramping up, deeply breathing in the crisp, late-summer air. It was a glorious night for a game.

He was in the middle of his warm-up, sitting on the ground and stretching his arms out to his toes, when Marco jogged over to him and sat near him. He began a similar stretch, eyes fixed on Jean.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Marco looked around, but their closest teammates were some distance away, so there was no danger of them overhearing what he had to say. "Ok, so, I know that you knew Rin was coming to the game tonight. And I didn't want you to freeze up or whatever when you saw him, so I thought I should tell you that he and his friends just sat down in the bleachers."

Jean stopped moving, fingers still touching the top of his soccer cleats.

"This is exactly why I told you now."

"Uhh. . . Marco, what do I do? Do I go say hi? Or no, would short stack be pissed? Would it be rude if I waited until after the game?"

Marco looked at his friend steadily. "Even if Coach wouldn't be mad, you should wait. We need you to concentrate on the game, and not freaking out. Okay?"

"Yeah, you're right." Jean stood, helping Marco up. "You ready for this?"

Marco smiled. "Always."

They finished their warm-up, and then Coach Ackerman gathered them together to discuss some last-minute strategies. Usually, this is where Jean would be listening to his coach's instructions, but also taking in his teammates, giving some last minute reminders to them. He did none of this tonight. Anxiety had started to build up in his stomach, coursing through his limbs, pumping through his bloodstream. And it had nothing to do with the game, and everything to do with a certain redhead.

Soon enough, the starting lineups were being announced. There wasn't much of a fan presence for Sina, but the spectators for Shiganshina applauded politely anyways. Sasha, their announcer, then started calling off the starting lineup of their team, beginning with the defenders, then the midfielders, and then the forwards. Eren, their striker, received loud applause. Jean could hear Armin's yell of "Erennnnnn!!!" through the crowd. He and Marco, as co-captains were called last. The brunet turned to his freckled friend and high-fived him with both hands, their usual routine, as Sasha charismatically announced, "And at midfield, co-captain, Jeannnnn Kirstein!!"

Fighting down his anxiety, Jean jogged out to take his position on the field, eyes on the grass, not hearing the enthusiastic applause or Nagisa yelling out his name like a crazy person.

"And at goalkeeper, co-captain, Marcoooooo Bott!!"

Now that everyone was on their place on the field, the national anthem began playing over the speakers. As the song went on, Jean tried to focus but found he couldn't. His ears felt plugged, his body felt sluggish, everything was too bright, too defined. He was hyper-aware but in slow motion at the same time.

 _Maybe I should just look at him already.  I've already seen him today, it'll be fine._  Jean breathed in heavily, and then turned his head fractionally toward the bleachers. And he shouldnt've. Because it all became worse.

He immediately spotted Rin standing halfway up the bleachers, hand over his heart for the anthem, face angled toward the flag. Nagisa and Rei were at his left and two other companions were standing one row above them. Jean's heart seemed to do a somersault and then stop altogether.

Rin was dressed in a thin, white, long-sleeved button up, which wasn't buttoned up. The sleeves were rolled up just past his elbows, showing off his well-formed forearms. His jeans were a dark wash, fitting low on his hips and tight on his body. He wore a red undershirt that clung to his abdomen and dipped down to reveal a good amount of chest and was tight enough to reveal the contours of every single muscle.

Jean swallowed thickly. _Oh shit.  He wasn't wearing that earlier today._

The redhead had donned a black and red trucker's hat on his head, the logo indistinguishable at this distance. But. For the first time, Jean saw that he had pulled the back of his hair into a tiny ponytail, the soft red hair fluttering in the breeze. The brunet's breath caught, but his eyes dared to move further, drinking in the sight of Rin's face. His head was slightly tilted back as he looked at the darkening sky, mouthing the words of the song.

The anthem ended, and Jean saw that Nagisa was waving to him, had been waving for who knows how long. The blond elbowed Rin, pointing out Jean at the field. And then his body kicked into overdrive. No more sluggish. No more of his ears being plugged. It felt like he had ingested 5 cups of coffee, or was a wind-up toy ready to go. The brunet shook out his arms, trying to regulate his breathing. Concentrate, concentrate.

The game began, and Jean felt all over the place. It was his job as a center midfielder to help support the forwards and stymie any attacks. His body was running, but Jean felt strangely as if it didn't have a concentrated purpose. He wasn't seeing the game. The brunet was supposed to be calling out to the other players, but instead was silent. In his lack of vocalization, Thomas Wagner, the other center midfielder, began to shout out warnings and call out to where the ball was going.

There was a lot of back and forth between the two teams, with no real scoring threat as of yet. Jean knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that had he been at the top of his game right now, that might have changed. Thomas was the attacking midfielder while Jean was more of a defending midfielder, responsible for taking on strikers on the opposing team should they make it past his teammates. Since Jean was somewhat just a body out on the field right now, Thomas was also having to shoulder some of his responsibility, reducing the threat of his own attack.

 _Get it together_ , the brunet screamed at himself, gritting his teeth. Just then, one of the opposing team's forwards, a lightning-fast dark haired male, received a long pass from one of his teammates, and ran towards Jean. Usually, the brunet's body would act instinctively, instantly assessing the other's movements and next direction. But tonight, he had nothing.

Jean's skittish body went for a block tackle, but the male easily avoided him, passing to the other forward that had infiltrated their side of the field. The two of them began streaking toward Shiganshina's defense, the weakest part of their team. Franz and Mylius moved to intercept, but again, the males passed off to each other, easily bypassing the defense. Jean was already running back towards the goal, watching in horror as the dark-haired male aimed a kick at their goal.

But Marco easily stopped it, a grim expression on his face, totally immersed in the game. Thank god, Jean thought vaguely, his senses starting to return. He felt chagrin that he would have singlehandedly been responsible had Marco not been able to stop the ball from making its way into the net. Though logically that didn't make sense, he unequiovally shouldered the responsibility that came with any breakdown of defense.

A few minutes later after some more back and forth, Thomas aimed a well-placed kick to Conny, their other forward. He and Eren went on a rush into the Sina's side of the field, and Eren easily scored. It was greeted with loud applause and cheering. Even a cowbell. Most of the team went to congratulate Eren on the goal, but Jean stood still near the center of the field, shame still blanketing him in waves. He didn't deserve to help celebrate that goal.

Marco jogged over to him, wiping his face on his jersey. He knocked his forehead lightly onto Jean's. "Focus," he commanded.

"I know, I'm sorry," Jean said dismally. "I owe you for that save."

"Glad to see your head is out of the clouds. But now is the time to stop feeling sorry for yourself and get your ass in the game. We are depending on you. Get it together."

When Marco needed to be, he could be pretty intimidating. Though mostly good-natured to others, he could call Jean out on his shit when he needed to because of their close relationship.

"Got it." And that's all Jean needed to say. He was back in the game.

For the rest of the first half, he was calling out to his teammates, concentrating, anticipating plays by the other team. Once or twice the forwards tried to make it past him but were not successful. He had some succesful tackles, reading the movements of his opponents. All in all, when halftime was called, he was happy with the performance of his teammates, though still sullen over his earlier distraction. At the sidelines, Coach Ackerman took him aside. Jean fully expected to be reamed out, but was surprised when the coach only mildly lectured him and then told him he was lucky that Marco had kicked his ass back into gear.

Throughout the second half of the game, Jean blocked out all other distractions, all tall, redheaded males in the stands. All one of them. He played ferociously, supporting his team with everything he had. Conny and Eren each scored another goal, Shiganshina winning 3-0. Thomas Wagner cuffed him lightly on the side of the head at the end of the game, smiling, happy that Jean had returned to lead their team. A lot of his teammates went to say hi to their family or friends in the stands before making their way into the locker room. It was time.

Jean took a deep breath, starting to jog over to the stands where Rin and his friends had made their way down and were now standing off to the side of the bleachers. Without warning, Marco appeared at his side, and the brunet shot him a grateful look. He felt less anxious with Marco there to support him in case he made any flubs. Though for the most part, now that he had worked himself into a satisfied and tired state from the game, Jean felt strangely peaceful and happy. Nowhere near the almost catatonic state he had been earlier.

Rei noticed their approach first, saying something to their group. The rest turned, the two unknown males smiling politely, and a grin on Nagisa's face. Jean's eyes flickered over to Rin, and saw that he had shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, eyes somewhat averted and biting his lip.

Everything he does is hot, Jean thought agonizingly.

"Jean! Marco! That was AWESOME," Nagisa said, eyes wide and jumping in place.

"You two are truly skilled at your position," Rei added. "I can see why the two of you are captains."

"Thank you," Marco said politely, inclining his head.

"Thanks, but it's this guy here that saved my ass today," Jean said, giving credit where credit was due. "He deserves the accolades."

"Why did you need saving?" the taller of the two new companions asked curiously.

"Oh well, because, um, well-" Jean grimaced, looking at his friend for help.

"You had a headache, right?" Marco knit his brows at him, as if he were remembering back to earlier in the night.

"Yeah, that's right. A headache. It went away though."

"Hmmm," Nagisa said, tapping his chin, thinking. He looked over to the redhead after a few seconds. "Anyways, Rin, don't you want to make some introductions?"

"Right, I'm sorry," Rin said, quickly glancing at Jean. "Jean and Marco, this is Makoto" here he gestured toward the taller of the males, brown-haired and green-eyed, "and this is Haru." Haru nodded politely at them, blue eyes serious but distant at the same time.

"You both play well," Haru contributed.

"Thank you," Jean said, becoming aware of the fact that his face was dripping with sweat. He grabbed the bottom of his jersey, pulling it up to wipe off his face, thoughtlessly revealing his entire abdomen and chest to the group. "What did you think, Rin?"

Silence. Jean dropped his jersey, focusing on the redheaded male. Startled cognac eyes flew up to his face, cheeks aflame with emotion. The brunet was confused. _Did I do something again?_  

"Oh! Well, it was really fun to watch. You guys are all really good," Rin bit his lip again, eyes wide as he looked away.

"Hey, you two, that reminds me!" Nagisa exclaimed excitedly, "The five of us are going to Lasertron tomorrow night. Do you guys want to come with us?"

Jean looked at Marco. "I can't," the freckle-faced male said apologetically. "It's my grandparent's anniversary dinner."

"Aww, well maybe another time?" Nagisa asked hopefully.

"Yeah, definitely."

"How about you, Jean?" Rei questioned. Jean saw Rin's gaze flicker towards him.

"Sounds awesome. What time do you guys want to meet up?" The brunet loved Lasterton. The whole soccer team had done it a few weeks back before school started as part of a team building exercise. Jean had been ruthless, his team earning a solid victory against Marco's.

"Well, we were thinking around 7? Ish?" And then Nagisa's face took on an impish quality to it. "The thing is, my car only sits 4 comfortably. Maybe you can drive Rin?"

"Uh," Jean gazed over at Rin who had closed his eyes momentarily at Nagisa's suggestion. "Yeah, that's no problem. If it's okay with Rin."

"Great. Ok, well we're off! See you around Marco! See you tomorrow Jean!"

The other males said their good-byes, Rin the last to turn away.

"Rin." The name was out of Jean's mouth before he could even think about it. The redhead turned, a question on his face.

"I'll see you in a few," Marco murmured, and then jogged away. Jean felt his face get hot, but gathered as much courage as he had.

"Thank you. For coming to the game. I, uh, appreciate it. The team can use all the fans it can get."

Rin stepped a little closer, hands in his pockets, warm eyes on his. "You're welcome." He paused, considering. "Did you really have a headache?"

"No," he said honestly. The breeze cooled Jean off, ruffling his short brown hair. Rin nodded at the admission.

"Then what happened?" he asked quietly, looking a little worried. They were standing close enough so that Jean was able to hear him despite the low volume of his voice.

"I saw you," Jean admitted.

The brunet watched as Rin colored beautifully, but his cognac eyes didn't leave Jean's face. "Me?"

"Yes."

Rin was silent for a few beats. "Well, I got to see you the whole game." A small smile worked its way on his face. "I win."

 _Is this flirting?_  Jean wondered to himself. _It feels like it?  I guess?  I know I'm trying to flirt, at least._

"Can I have your number?" The soccer captain asked, toeing at the grass. This was a first for him. "Oh wait--I don't have my phone on me." He looked up at the sky in exasperation. Idiot.

"Hey, tell me yours," the redhead insisted. "I'll text you, and then you'll have my number."

Jean gave him his number, and knew that his team and coach were likely waiting on him. "I gotta go . . .I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Rin smiled again. "Should be fun."

"Great. Around 6:30 okay?" Rin nodded.

"I'll see you then. Bye!"

And with that, the brunet whirled around, jogging toward the locker room, a happy grin on his face. Halfway there, he looked over his shoulder. The redhead was still in the same spot, eyes on him, but a radiant smile was lighting up his features.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean meets Gou.
> 
> DDR and Lasertron.
> 
> A first, a second, a third.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I'm updating this to 'mature,' just in case. I kinda see it as borderline T or M, so it'll be M to be safe! Though it will change to explicit soon.

Jean Kirstein, Lasertron Team Captain and champion extraordinaire, didn't know what to wear this time to Lasertron. Clad in only green plaid boxers, he stood in front of his closet, hands on his hips. A scowl dominated his otherwise handsome features as he contemplated his clothing choices. He should have figured this out earlier! He checked the time on his phone. He had 15 minutes before he had to leave his house and head over to Rin's. And he was no closer to figuring out what to wear than he was when he got out of the shower some 20 minutes ago.

When he had gone with his teammates a few weeks back, it had been a no-brainer. Shorts and a t-shirt. Because in the "arena," as they called the huge room with two floors and ramps and multiple bases, it got very hot very quickly. Due in part to all of the technology up and running. And the participants themselves working up a sweat from moving around pretty much non-stop. But now . . .Jean didn't want to look like a scumbag. He wanted to look nice. Ughhhhh.

The brunet started rooting around in his closet anxiously, rejecting shirt after shirt. But then his phone started ringing. The caller ID revealed it to be his best friend.

"Marco. I'm freaking out, man, I'm freaking out." He covered his eyes with his hand, trying to calm himself.

"I knew you'd be like this. Look, you're overthinking it. Just calm down and pick something simple."

"Easy for you to say. 'Simple.' Like what?" Jean uncovered his eyes, returning to his perusal of his closet. He pushed aside a hoodie.

"Hmm. What about just a t-shirt and jeans? It's gonna be hot in there, as you well know. And I'm sure you'll be gearing to win again." Jean smiled at that. He sure would be aiming for his team, whichever team he happned to be on, to win. It was embedded in him to be competitive.

"You don't think a t-shirt and jeans will be too, like, informal?" The brunet drew out the last word, uncertain of himself.

"Nah. Look, Nagisa was the one that invited you, right?"

"Right."

"So it's not a date. It's a bunch of friends hanging out. With the guy you like just happening to be part of the group. And if they're all as smart as they seem, they'll probably be wearing similar clothing, too."

"You're right." Jean breathed out, thankful for his friend's wise words. He reddened at the thought that he may have gotten dressed up, and then everyone else showing up in comfortable clothes for Lasertron. "Thanks, dude."

"You're welcome." Marco sighed. "Well, I better get back to dinner. I think my grandparents are going to make a speech soon. Wish I was going with you guys."

"Enjoy. Tell your parents I said hi."

"Will do." Marco disconnected the line, and then Jean looked determinedly at his closet. Stop overthinking it, he told himself. He grabbed his favorite pair of jeans, a light wash, and then pulled them on. Next, he pushed aside the clothing that he had already considered and rejected, finding a green t-shirt with gold lettering. It had "Shiganshina High School" written on the front with a gold-outlined soccer player kicking a ball, and "Boys Soccer" on the back with a list of all of the names of the players. Perfect. He pulled it on, and then took a look at his hair in the mirror.

Don't overthink it, he told himself again. He nodded at his reflection, running a comb through his hair, pulling the short brown strands on the top of his head forward in his usual style. He was all set.

Jean found himself a few minutes early to Rin's, and he idled his car, wondering what to do. Text him that he was here and have him come out (because it wasn't a "date," right?) or go up to the door (because he wanted it to be a "date")? The male switched off the car's ignition, mind made up. The mid-September night was warm as he walked up the Matsuokas' front sidewalk. He knocked on the door, popping a few knuckles as he waited, nervous.

The door before him opened suddenly, revealing a pretty, redheaded girl. Obviously Rin's sister that he had mentioned before. Her long red hair was up in a ponytail, messy bangs almost obscuring her own cognac-colored eyes. Just like her brother's. Jean stared for a moment, before catching himself.

"Hi. I'm Jean. I'm here for Rin?" he ended it as a question. The girl looked at him for a moment, and then realization seemed to dawn across her features.

"Jean! That's right. I've heard about you!" And with that said, she grabbed his wrist, hauling him inside.

"You've heard about me?" Jean questioned, curious. And then he was hit with the scent of multiple and unidentifiable fragrances all at once. It was very different than anything he had encountered before, and it was very strong. But it smelled nice. The male then remembered Rin mentioning his sister having an Etsy shop for essential oils.

"Yes. But never mind that. If you were a Spice Girl, which one would you be?" She closed the front door, facing him in the entryway.

"What?" _What on earth??_  He was only vaguely familiar with the formerly popular girl group.

She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "If you were a Spice Girl, which one would you be?"

"Uhhhh . . . Sporty Spice?"

The redhead nodded sagely. "I thought you might say that."

"Why did you ask?" Jean looked around the entryway, curious about Rin's house. The walls here were lined with family pictures, and he spotted a few that looked like Rin as a child. He moved toward them, unable to hold back from seeing something so precious.

"I have my reasons." She came to stand next to him, warm eyes still on Jean. "What's your favorite season?"

"Fall," he said without hesitation. His eyes roamed over the pictures, eyeing a few family group photos. Rin looked adorable as a child, an effortless and genuine smile always seeming to light up his face.

"Favorite animal?" Gou continued her barrage of questions. Jean tore his gaze away from the photos, considering the question.

"Hmm. Maybe . . . I guess . . . bears."

"Really? I guess that makes sense, after all." Gou regarded him, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Jean didn't have a chance to ask her what she meant by that, for there was a sound of a door opening from upstairs.

"Gou? Are you talking to someone?" Jean's heart sped up as Rin's beautiful voice traveled to them.

"Yeah! To Jean! And guess what--I already know his combination!" Gou was eyeing the brunet triumphantly.

My combination? Jean wondered. HUHH?

"Oh no." Jean heard the sound of footsteps quickly approaching, and then Rin came down the stairs from their left.

And of course, he looked wonderful. He was wearing a black polo that fitted tight on his abdomen, a few buttons unbuttoned. The top wasn't accommodating for the redhead's muscular shoulders. Which was just fine with Jean, of course. He blinked a few times, mesmerized again by the male's presence. Rin's shirt ended right on top of grayish-black jeans, resting low on angular hips. If he were to move his arms up at any time, the brunet was sure he would get an eyeful of skin, of a flawlessly muscular body. . . .

But, as usual, and as much as Jean was fiercely attracted to Rin's physique, the brunet couldn't help but look back toward his face. Because that's where the intensity had him locked in, that's where he could see the different emotions playing out on his face at any given time. Those cognac eyes were the conduit through which Rin's warmth passed through and left Jean captivated. The redhead was like the Pied Piper and with one look at him, Jean would follow the male anywhere. Even if it meant his own demise.

"Jean, hi." Rin was directing a worried look his way, but the brunet didn't understand why. He smiled reassuringly back at the redhead. Rin turned to his sister. "Gou, did you even introduce yourself?"

The girl shrugged. "So much can be understood about someone else by asking them questions. Which I did. And like I said, I know what his combination is."

"My combination?" Jean asked, this time out loud.

"Jean, this is my sister, Gou. Gou, this is Jean." They smiled at each other politely. "And what she means is, she knows which combination of essential oils she thinks would work for you."

"Oh." Rin was looking at him anxiously, measuring his reaction. "Cool. So, Gou. . . what is my . . . combination?"

"I'm glad you asked! But it's a secret." She smiled sweetly at him. "I want to mix it for you first. And then see how you like it."

"Oh, okay." The three of them were silent for a few beats. "Uh, Rin. I saw your pictures here on the wall. Is that you with your friends?"

Rin came over to stand by him. Jean was able to distinguish his woodsy and cinnamon scent from all of the others in the house. He fought the urge to lean over. "Yeah. I think this was taken shortly after I joined the Iwatobi Swim Club. We won a relay later that year together."

"Hmm. Wow. That's really . . . awesome. Maybe I can see you swim sometime. Like a swimming meet or something." Jean remembered seeing Rin in the pool, his athletic grace.

Rin turned toward him, surprised. "You would really want to watch that?"

"Of course I would," Jean said, and their gazes held for a few seconds, each continuing to learn something new about the other. The brunet felt the intensity between them expand through their continued eye contact and he racked his brain for something to talk about, not wanting to do or say something silly in front of Gou.

"Did you. . . um. Always have longer hair like that?" Jean motioned towards the picture on the wall, the redhead's arm draped around a stoic Haru. A smiling Nagisa and Makoto were on Rin's other side, the four all scrawny-limbed and pale-skinned. The opposite of Jean, who had a tan almost year round from the time he spent outside for his own sport and other activities.

"Sort of." Rin considered it. "I cut it shorter when I went to Australia."  
  
"Brother, when are you going to let me cut your hair again? It's getting so long. You need a trim." Gou's voice was enthusiastic, waiting for her brother to answer.

Rin flushed a bright red at the question. "Maybe next week. Jean, you ready to go??"  The redhead was suddenly in a rush to leave, embarrassed for some reason. He made a wide circle with the fingers on his left hand, gently tugging on Jean's wrist to get him moving.

Jean let himself be tugged along, body electrified by Rin's touch, so warm on his own skin. The redhead had touched HIM, willingly. Gou traipsed after them.

"Good night, Gou!" Rin called, releasing Jean's wrist on the front steps.

"G'night!"

Now that Jean was free of Rin's touch, he was able to think a little clearer. He stopped, turning back toward Gou in the doorway. He had one question. "So which Spice Girl is Rin?"

She smiled brightly. "Isn't it obvious?" And then she shut the door.

Jean and Rin got into the brunet's green Honda Civic, the redhead looking a little apprehensive.

"Uh--um." He began, looking at Jean quickly as Jean started the car. "Are you totally weirded out right now?" He tapped his fingers nervously on the passenger side door.

"Why would I be?" Jean asked, buckling his seatbelt, but focusing on Rin beside him. Truly, Jean was confused.

Rin frowned. He stopped tapping his fingers on the door. "Well. . . my family is a little . . . different . . . than some other families."

Jean was now baffled. "Wha--uh--um." He stopped for a few seconds. "Are you talking about your sister? Because I really have no idea what you're talking about."

Rin was quiet for a moment, trying to put his thoughts together. Then he turned sideways in his seat, warm eyes anxious, but determined. "Ok. So. Ever since I was little, my family has been a bit unconventional. My mom likes to say we are free spirited. My parents were vegans, and Gou and my mom still are. I mean, I told you about how my sister has an Etsy shop for essential oils. But she also does charms, and jewelry with crystals, and items of spiritual protection. And--and my mom is big on alternative medicine--" The redhead had been speaking quickly, words tumbling out in a panic.

"Rin." Jean interrupted. "Rin, stop. Why do you feel like you have to explain all of this to me?"

The redhead sighed. "Well, a lot of people get totally weirded out by my family, by their lifestyle. I remember bringing home friends when I was younger and then, after just one visit, they would never want to come back. So, I guess I just wanted to tell you up front. That this is who my family is. Who I am. So you know, in case you don't want to . . . talk to me anymore."

Jean was stunned into silence. "What?" he finally asked incredulously. "Rin. I don't think there's anything about your family that you could tell me that would make me not want to talk to you anymore." And as much as Jean was seen as sarcastic and moody by others, what he had just said was a simple truth. Because when it came to Rin, he would unreservedly accept anything that came with him, and never stop to consider if something was odd. Because to him, the redhead was perfection.

Rin looked at him in surprise, daring to believe the words Jean had said. "Really? I mean, you just saw the entryway of my house. The rest might be stranger--"

"No." Jean said, and laid a hand on top of Rin's in a need to emphasize what he was saying. He surprised himself by doing so, but it just felt natural to him. "Anybody who has ever judged you or your family in the past are fools. I like every single thing about you. I hope that I can see the rest of your house some day, and meet your mom. And show you that there's nothing to worry about."

Rin's face slowly transformed into one of delighted assurance, beaming radiantly. Jean could only stare back at him, powerless to look away--and not wanting to, either. This--this surely was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, the brunet thought, gazing in wonder. Cognac eyes were wide and warm, endless. Dark red strands of hair were coming loose from the rest, almost obscuring his eyes. Bringing form to his heart-shaped face. Thin, pale cheeks were flushed, like the last rays of sunlight painting nearby clouds with color.

"You are beautiful," Jean breathed, that very thought dominating his mind, almost overwhelming him.

Rin's eyes widened, a whirlpool of emotion blending together. He laced his fingers through Jean's. Then he leaned forward slowly, his eyelids closing gently. Jean's heart started pumping crazily, knowing what was coming. Not prepared for the first kiss of his life but wanting it oh so badly. And then the redhead's soft lips touched his lightly, tentatively. Jean felt his body responding, reaching his free hand up to Rin's face, the already warm palm touching a flushed cheek. Equally heated. His mouth opened of its own accord, deepening the kiss, the two males testing out the waters of this new level of interaction between them. Their lips seemed to move in synchronization with each other, opening for the other, passion erupting between them.

The redhead pulled back slowly, long lashes beautifully decorating eyelids that were half-closed. They simply breathed for a moment, faces inches away from each other. Jean pulled his hand away from Rin's face, blushing furiously. "That . . . was my first kiss," he admitted, looking down, uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. Rin had a way of doing things to him that made him act not like himself. He could be vulnerable with him in a way that he couldn't be with anyone else.

"Really? Well . . ." Rin kissed him on the cheek, beautiful lips lingering, speaking quietly in his ear. "I'm glad it was with me."

Jean felt a rare type of happiness burgeoning up inside of him, unable to contain it. He smiled, shifting in his seat. "We should get going." He finally moved his other hand, the one that had had his fingers laced through Rin's, to put the car in gear.

The two males chatted easily and more familiarly during the ride to the Lasertron facility. Jean still couldn't believe how easy Rin was to talk to, and how interested he found himself in all of the things he had to say. It was like discovering a new planet, and trying to see everything all at once. The redhead even told him more about each of his friends. Like how Haru refused to drink anything with ice in it. How Makoto loved cats, and fed multiple strays outside his house. How Rei got manicures regularly and wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed about it. And how Nagisa liked to assign colors to people. "I'm red, apparently." Jean wasn't surprised.

"I wonder what color I am?" he wondered out loud.

And Rin was asking him questions, too. About his childhood and family and what he wanted to do after high school. So he told the redhead about adventures he and Marco had had as children, like unwisely riding their bikes down a steep hill normally reserved for sledding, and how he had broken his wrist as a result. Or going on vacation to London with his family. And how he wanted to play soccer in college, though he didn't know what he wanted to study yet.

Soon enough they had arrived at the complex, just a few minutes past 7. They walked inside, close by to each other, shoulders almost touching. The others were already waiting for them inside, examining the multiple attractions that the building housed. Not only was there the actual Lasertron arena, but there was a good-sized arcade that featured new and beloved games. There were also go karts and miniature golfing for the warmer months.

"About time you two show up," Nagisa said slyly when he caught sight of them. "What took you so long?"

Jean reddened slightly, still new to hanging around the group, not exactly his completely sarcastic self around them. He was relieved to see that the four of them were wearing t-shirts or something similar with jeans. Marco had been wise to advise him to stop overthinking things.

"Shut it, Nagisa," Rin said with a shy smile, hands tucked into jeans pockets.

"Oooohh--" Nagisa started to say, but Rei cut him off before he could continue with any other embarrassing comments.

"Are you two ready for Lasertron? I have done considerable research and I think I have some strategies for whichever team I am on. Which I will share at that time."

Jean and Rin exchanged pleasantries with Haru and Makoto, and the brunet found himself getting along with them all. He smiled inwardly at the thought of Makoto being surrounded by stray cats wanting to be fed, and of Haru glaring at anyone who might dare to put ice in his drink. They all paid for their round of Lasertron, playing games in the arcade while waiting for it to be set up in the computer.

"What do you think?" Rin had stopped by the DDR station, an eyebrow raised.

Jean crossed his arms. Did Rin not know he and Marco had spent their summers mastering most of these songs?? "I'm thinking . . . you might get beat if you try and play against me," he said teasingly, but with a hint of a challenge in his voice.

"Is that so?" Rin smiled, a challenge apparent in his own mannerisms. He stepped up onto one of the platforms, inserting some quarters. "You going to join me?"

Jean smirked. "Oh. I sure am. I'll even let you pick the song." He watched as Rin scrolled through the various DDR versions, settling in DDRMAX2. Then he chose Tsugaru. He smiled, familiar with the song. He hadn't played in a few years, but he knew this song in particular wasn't altogether super challenging. And then Rin chose 'difficult.' Shit. Okay, then. He was never one to shy away from a challenge.

The brunet chose 'difficult' as well, glancing over at the redhead. He looked excited, in his element. Jean had never seen him looking like this--so energized over something. A big grin lit up the rehead's face, and then he beamed over at him. "Good luck, Jean," he said with a mischievous light in his eyes.

Jean had to tear his gaze away from the dazzling sight that was Rin as the first strains of music began. And then he was locked in. He felt his legs moving instinctively, lower body pivoting, eyes focused on the next step, next step, next step. The outside world faded to the background, and it was just Rin and him becoming matching blurs of movement. He felt the steps coming back to him, getting into a cadence. And then there was a whoop from behind them. And he couldn't hold back--he grinned.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Rin moving just as quickly, concentrating. His body was a whirling cyclone as the male moved fluidly, quickly, a force to be reckoned with. And the song was over, just like that. Jean breathed in and out quickly, taking a look at their scores. And . . . what the . . . Rin had beat him. And not by a little. By a good margin. He turned towards the male, incredulous.

"You ringer!" He accused, but with a smile on his face.

Rin shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe next time I'll choose 'basic' so you don't get beaten as badly." And then a megawatt smile lit up his face.

"Ohhh, so it's like that?" Jean stepped close to him, their eyes meeting, mere inches separating them. The brunet's face went slack, feeling the intangible pull of a cord connecting them.

"You're gonna wait til later to make out, right?" Nagisa's teasing voice interrupted them. Jean took a step backward, the spell broken. Rei, Haru, and Makoto were also standing nearby.

"You didn't know that Rin is an expert at DDR?" Makoto asked, amused.

"I do now," Jean growled. The boys laughed.

A few minutes later, the announcement was made that the arena was ready for the lasertron participants. The computer had separated everyone into teams, some 20 or so on each side. Jean was on the red team with Rin and Haru. Nagisa, Rei, and Makoto were on the green team. The combatants were all in a separate room, receiving their gear. An employee gave a brief tutorial about how to use the gear and safety in general. As well as behavior that would not be tolerated. The game was separated into four separate 6 minute periods. Jean nodded, remembering.

"Do you have any tips?" Rin asked, checking out his laser gun, hefting it in his hands.

"Yes. Let's feel them out the first quarter, get an idea of their attack strategy. Kind of hit up each of their bases. Then, in the second, we strike. Coordinated attacks between small groups on certain bases."

Across from them, the green team was finishing getting geared up. Nagisa was hopping up and down excitedly, anxious to get going. Rei was trying to whisper something to him, no doubt about some sort of strategy. It was futile. He then tried to turn to Makoto and tell him, but Makoto was too busy narrowing his eyes across the way at Haru, giving him the hand-across-the-neck-you're-dead gesture. The raven haired male rolled his eyes.

"I'm so going to wreck Makoto at this," he muttered to Jean.

They were all ushered into the arena and led to separate bases. Loud electronic music was playing, the room only lit by the color of their bases. Jean paused in his strategizing to admire the way the bright red lights cast illumination diagonally across Rin's face. He was dazed momentarily again, somewhat disbelieving how one person could look at times so beautiful, and then the next incredibly hot, and then the next effortlessly stunning. He truly was a marvel.

A loud buzzer over the speakers announced the beginning of the first round, and Jean watched as all of the red team scattered in front of him. He took a second to analyze the situation, knowing the layout of the room. And then his body was moving slowly, steadily. It would probably always be in his nature to defend, to come up with a plan to hold off attackers. So he moved forward slowly, crouching down behind a pillar. Two males ran past him and he took them out, their green vests blinking, indicating they had been hit. They would have to return to their main base to be reset and ready for action again. The brunet stood, moving forward once more, crouching behind another pillar near the far wall. All he could hear was the loud bass of the music playing, so he watched for shadows on the wall and then jumped out, shooting a shocked Rei in the center of his vest.

"Well played." With a respectful nod, Rei turned around, jogging back to his base. Jean kept moving, picking off two other teenagers that tried to get past. He was jumping out behind another pillar to shoot two more green team members when he looked down at his blinking vest. He turned around. Nagisa. With a delighted grin, the blond wheeled around, dashing toward the red team's bases.

There was some back and forth for a while, and then the first period was over. A generic computer voice came over the speakers, announcing that both teams needed to return to their bases. A two minute countdown started, time ticking on a display near the center of the room. Jean could feel himself getting hot with the temperature of the room.

Rin and Haru found Jean, looking to him for guidance. "Okay, here's the plan. They seem to be working in small groups, in teams of either two or three. The three of us need to work the side of the room" here he gestured toward the path he had taken, "and we will cover each other. We will bypass their first base. They will expect us to try that one first. One or two of us might be taken out as we approach it, but the goal is to have the third member have uninhibited access to the base." The two other males nodded, eyes serious. They wanted to win. Nearby, a few other teens had heard Jean's strategy and were relaying the information to their friends, wanting to try the same thing. And then it was go time.

The three friends moved slowly to the left side of the wall, following Jean as he kneeled and watched shadowy movements approach them. They collectively took out a few lone wolves, and then moved forward. As they kneeled again, Rei came jumping out at them, behind them somehow. He managed to get Haru before Rin blasted him. Rin and Jean moved on, making their way to an unoccupied base. The two males took aim at the base's hot spot, racking up points. Some twenty seconds or so later, they were taken out by team members returning to recharge their vests.

Rin grinned at Jean in excitement, and they jogged back to their base, eager to continue their assault on the other team. There was more back and forth for the second period, and then a break. Jean analyzed the scoreboard. Their team was currently ahead by a small margin. To him, a small lead was not comfortable, not enough. They had to work on it. He already had a plan for the final period, but in the meantime he racked his brain on how to build a lead for this period. More points were obviously assigned to those that infiltrated other bases and shot at the assigned targets. During the break, about half of his team was now looking at him for guidance.

"Okay, so here's what we need to do. We have eight bases to cover. And . . . twenty people on our team. One of us each needs to defend a base. I will take base 8. And you 7" here he motioned with his finger at some of his other teammates, "will take bases 1-7. Everyone else, coordinated team attack like the last round. This time, go through the middle and then up. They will be expecting us to take the sides."

Everyone nodded, taking in his strategy, looking determined. Rin looked at him in amazement, admiring his charisma and ability to strategize and lead. The buzzer sounded, and then everyone moved to perform their assigned role. Jean moved swifly to base 8, the one on the fringes of neutral territory. It was on the far right on the wall, curved into an alcove. He crouched, ready. Poised. Nobody would get past him. Nobody would attack this base.

A couple minutes passed, and he was able to take out four or so of the opposing team. Word seemed to spread, because nobody else came his way. Had his position been communicated to the opposing team? And then he watched as Rin came moving toward him, slowly, gaze fixed forward for any oncoming targets. He worked his way over to Jean, and the brunet stood so they could talk.

"The defenses on each base are holding," he said excitedly. "We're up by more points now!"

Jean nodded, taking in the energy of the redhead. Rin was glowing, directing his radiance at the brunet and Jean felt himself come undone. The male was the sole thing that could get him to lose focus on anything--much like he had unknowingly done during the soccer game. Jean could only stare dumbly for a few seconds at Rin, mind trying to catch up to the information, brain trying uselessly to assess any needed adjustments in strategy. As if in slow motion, he saw a shadow approaching. But it was a second too late. Makoto invaded the base, and Jean acted by instinct. He jumped in front of Rin, pushing him into the wall, protecting him. The brunet's hands had gone to Rin's hips, holding him close to his own warm body. His vest blinked. He was shot.

Rin's laser gun arm moved up lazily, taking careful aim at Makoto. Done. The tall male retreated, eager to rack up more points for his team. All thought of returning to their main base to reset his vest evaporated out of Jean's mind. Again, when Rin was around, all of the brunet's usual behavior and thought processes went out the window. There was nobody else. Just Rin.

Jean had seen none of the interaction between the redhead and Makoto, his face close to the other male, laser gun dangling at his side as he held onto Rin's angular hips. Warm cognac eyes moved slowly to meet kobicha. The redhead had instigated their first kiss. And now, Jean wanted to start their second. He tilted his head to the side, lips descending onto Rin's. Though the music in the background was loud, pounding a steady, rhythmic beat into his body, Jean could have sworn he heard a small moan emanate from the redhead. Moving closer, Jean felt his chest make contact with Rin's tight and muscular pectorals. The intensity of their embrace kicked his attraction to Rin into overdrive, and he felt his arousal begin to make itself known as he kissed and kissed and kissed the other male. Claiming him here in front of everybody that chose to pass by, friends and foe alike.

Rin seemed to have dropped his own laser gun, instead choosing to wrap his arms loosely around Jean's neck. The brunet moved a tentative hand up into red locks, feeling the softness between his fingers. As he moved his lips against Rin's again, he breathed in the heady scent that he would forever associate with the male. And want to always smell--the combination he now knew was sandalwood and cinnamon. Trying hard to hold back from rubbing his hips against Rin, Jean compromised and daringly inserted his brave tongue into the redhead's hot mouth.

Jean felt, rather than heard, the vibration of Rin's murmur of approval. He carefully swiped his tongue over the top of the redhead's, caressing it. He felt his arousal becoming a full on hard-on, pressing against Rin. And he could feel the returning response through those tight jeans Rin had chosen to wear. Ah god, it was sweet torture.

A cry of pleasure tore its way out of Jean's throat, and he again forced himself from moving against Rin's erection. He concentrated on the feel of Rin's soft hair under his fingertips, the taste of his lips and tongue. The scent that permeated his mind. The hard smoothness of muscles against his own chest.

The buzzer sounding the end of the third period went off, and the two males separated reluctantly. Jean stared at the redhead in front of him for a moment, not wanting to move, not wanting anything else but Rin ever. Rin reached out and touched the tips of his fingers on one hand to Jean's, a beautifully happy smile on his face.

"C'mon," he murmured, leading the way back to their base. Jean followed along, as if he were a boat navigating in the wake of another, unsteady in its travel. He slowly awoke to the fact that they had one more round to go. And as much fun as the other rounds were, Jean felt himself wanting to be back in his car with Rin, lips joined and exploring each other. But he had to focus now.

They were back at the base with the rest of their teammates. Haru glanced at them with the slightest hint of interest, and Jean knew they had been seen. He didn't mind in the slightest. An all-encompassing roar of excitement, of anticipation, was beginning to work its way through his body. He felt unstoppable with Rin at his side. THEY WERE GOING TO WIN.

"Alright!" he announced. "We're going to form a diamond. And we are going to take on their base 8, the closest to us. Anyone that gets taken out, rush back and recharge. And come back to the formation. We've got this."

His teammates cheered, pumped up. The buzzer sounded, and their formation took off at a quick trot. Soon enough, they were at the closest base, everyone aiming and acquiring points. Some of the green team appeared to take them out, but they were taken out by the strategizing red team. Jean was somewhere near the middle, Rin at his right. They grinned at each other conspiratorially, briefly. Their connection to each other thrummed, undeniable.

The buzzer went off, sounding the end of the game. Teammates slumped on each other, tired and sweaty. Each team had participants that were yelling out, claiming they were the victorious ones. The music still pounded loud in their ears as they made their way to the outside room to take off their gear. Jean felt a tug on the belt loop of his jeans, and looked over his shoulder to see Rin hanging onto him, connecting them on a physical plane. The brunet couldn't think of a time in his life where he had been happier than he was at this moment.

They all removed their gear, occasionally helping out friends that were struggling. They made their way out to the main lobby, waiting for their score to be posted. Rei was looked guardedly optimistic, and Makoto had his arms wound around Haru's shoulders, his head on the shorter male's, eyeing one of the displays. And then it was decided.

The red team had kept their lead during the final round, and had added greatly to it. The top scorer was Jean, and Rin a few behind. Now he had bragging rights, and he turned to Rei, Nagisa, and Makoto with a smirk on his face.

"Maybe a rematch sometime, eh boys?" Jean said cockily, on top of the world. Nothing could bring him down, for Rin had raised him up.

"Hmm. . . " Nagisa contemplated, his head tilted to the side. "Maybe next time just you and Rin versus everyone else, and then when you two start gluing your lips together again, we'll all move in."

Jean found that he wasn't embarrassed in the slightest, so alive with exuberance. Rin, however, shoved his hands in his pockets, cheeks a bright red. But he found his voice.

"Even then that might not be enough for you guys to win."

They all parted ways shortly thereafter, making plans to hang out or do something together in the upcoming weeks. Jean drove back towards Rin's house, the two males recounting their match on the drive home. The brunet soon found himself pulling into Rin's driveway, turning off his headlights.

"Thanks for coming tonight," Rin said, voice suddenly quiet.

"Thanks to you and your friends for inviting me."

Rin looked over at him, a soft smile on his face. "I think Nagisa was hellbent on getting us all together. And maybe he knew I'd be more willing to go if you were going to be there."

Jean leaned forward, placing his palm on the back of Rin's neck, the bit he had been aching to touch for so long now. Rin leaned into him, their lips joining effortlessly. If their first kiss had been tentative and exploratory, and the second passionate and needy, this one was sweet and slow. Gradually, Jean opened his mouth, Rin's melting into the same maneuver against his. The brunet slowly slid his tongue against the redhead's, enjoying the sensation, his taste. Their hands linked fingers together, the other ran fingers through the other's hair, or explored each other's face with curious fingertips. Jean eventually settled a hand on Rin's hip, wanting to pull him over and on top of him.

Not here, he thought. Not now. Later.

He pulled back slowly, eyes glazed over with desire. Rin eyes were looking into his, full of emotion, staring fixedly.

"Jean . . . you--you are the beautiful one." And then he was opening the car door. "Good night."

"Good night," Jean repeated quietly, heart swelling inside of his chest, not even sure Rin had heard him.

 

* * *

 

On school on Monday, Jean was recounting his Saturday night to Marco as they walked across the parking lot and towards their first class. The brunet kept a close eye on the students around them, not wanting to be overheard.

"So . . . " Marco questioned as they sat down in their first class. "Does this mean you two are now . . . seeing each other? Boyfriends?"

Jean's eyes widened, worried about possible inaction on his part. How did things like this go? "I don't know. Uhhhh . . . should um. Should I have asked?"

Marco considered his best friend. "I guess it depends on the both of you. Maybe sometimes these things take time, and there's no rush needed. But his friends asked you to hang out last time. Maybe it's your turn to ask Rin to hang out."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll do that. Hmm." His eyes studied the tiles on the floor, considering what his next step ought to be. How was his best friend so wise when he had even less experience with relationships than Jean did? Maybe it was just part of who he was, wisdom inherent in his nature from birth.

"Jean, hey." The brunet looked up at hearing the familiar, melodic voice. And everything in him immediately focused on the male beside him. The redhead was a snake charmer, a hypnotist. Rin sat down in his seat, a small smile on his face. "Did you tell Marco how our team won on Saturday?"

"I sure did," Jean felt his eyes drifting across Rin's features, a path it loved to travel. "And . . . I told him how you beat me at DDR." He pretended to slump his head sadly in defeat.

"Rin, I think I want to challenge you sometime at that," Marco said, a good-natured expression on his face.

"You got it," Rin said easily, "I have it at my house. Maybe you two can come over some time." And then Rin looked at Jean, and the brunet realized something. _He believes me. . . when I told him that there's nothing about his family I wouldn't like.  And he is trusting Marco with that, too._ It made him feel embraced, warm on the inside. And then the bell rang, cutting off all other conversation in the room. Mr. Ackerman was already at the front, beginning his lecture on the current segment of "The Things They Carried" that they were reading.

And Jean wasn't paying attention. He was still reeling from his realization, still somewhat disbelieving that Rin could actually return his feelings, be interested in him. That it was more than just Jean who felt their connection. He found himself anxious over how to act around Rin, their current status, and what he and the redhead could possibly do when they hung out together next--that is, if Rin agreed to it. These thoughts tumbled through his brain like clothes in a dryer. Their class went by fast, and Jean found himself walking alongside Rin in the hallway, determined to come up with something. If the redhead was surprised to see Jean next to him, he didn't show it.

"So, uh, what's your next class?" Jean asked, looking sideways over at Rin, the brunet's hair falling across his forehead.

"Pre-calc."

"Hmmm." So their next classes were in the same hallway, Jean's own class at the end. All around them students were hurrying to get to second period, others talking to friends at their lockers. The sound of loud conversation surrounded them. Rin paused near the doorway to his classroom, leaning back against the lockers, eyes meeting Jean's.

And the brunet felt his heart speed up, warmth seeming to coat his body whenever Rin looked at him like that. He found himself moving closer, placing a palm on the metallic surface of the lockers beside Rin, forearm touching the redhead's shoulder. He could see Rin breathing in, mouth opening slightly.

"I was wondering . . . " Jean began, knowing eyes were on them but not seeing them. Not caring, either. "If you might want to, um, maybe, see a movie with me this weekend?"

Rin breathed out, allowing for a couple of beats of silence. "Yes. I would. Like that, I mean. I work Friday night and Sunday though."

That worked out perfectly for Jean, who had a game on Friday night. "So, maybe Saturday night?" The crowd around them was thinning, the bell soon to ring.

"Yes." Rin blinked, eyes bright.

Jean leaned forward, closing the gap of the few inches that separated him and Rin, kissing him softly once and then twice on his lips.

"Great." He moved backward. "I'll see you later."

The redhead nodded, cheeks flushed. Jean watched as he walked fluidly into Pre-calc, and he heard Eren say out loud from inside the classroom, "So Kirstein DOES have a heart!?" And a few students laugh in amusement.

Eren wasn't being mean at all. Rather, he sounded dumbfounded, incredulous. If he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Jean had had the same group of friends for years now, and never let anyone but Marco in on the fact that he had been interested in Armin in the past. But that didn't excuse Eren most likely thoroughly embarrassing Rin like that. Jean would just have to come up with a way to get back at him.

And then the bell was ringing. Jean jogged down the now empty hallway, a silly grin on his face as he walked into Mr. Zacharius's class late.

"Mr. Kirstein. You're late," he reprimanded. Luckily, class hadn't even started--Mr. Zacharius usually let them settle in for a minute or so before the cruel torture of his class began.

"Sorry, sorry!" Jean hurried to his seat.

Marco leaned across the aisle, waving at the brunet to do the same.

"I see you seem to have everything figured out," his freckle-faced friend said with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Jean said sheepishly, starting to move away. But then he turned back to his friend. "Oh, and Marco . . can you aim a ball at Eren's head later? In practice?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it would be too obvious if I did it."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night.
> 
> Dinner at the Kirsteins'.
> 
> Jean's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter still qualifies as 'M' but will probably become "E" next time around.

  
"Jean, honey, we would like to meet him," said Mrs. Kirstein, on Tuesday night after her son came home after practice. Jean had told his parents the previous night about his date, and they had been surprised but happy. They knew it wasn't easy for him to let people in.

The brunet drained his water bottle of the last drops of room temperature water, stalling. "Uh--okay. When?" Jean hadn't been nervous telling his parents about his date with Rin for Saturday night. He had been mostly excited. But now that they wanted to meet him . . . that was something else entirely. It wasn't as if he had planned on them NEVER meeting. He just didn't think it would be this soon. For their first official date together. He felt a slight anxiety over the idea.

Two separate parts of his life would be coming together--what would they think of each other? His parents were like different aspects of his own personality. His mother, witty and sarcastic. His father, a former college athlete himself and always receiving top grades when he was in school. What if Rin didn't like them? What if they didn't like Rin?? _Impossible_ , he thought. _There's nobody that could not be drawn in by Rin_. He shook his head to clear out these nagging thoughts.

"Welllll," his mother said, bustling around the kitchen, brown hair up in a bun as she prepared dinner, "why not have him over for dinner? After your movie? You can ask him if there are any foods he doesn't like, and we will make something special for him." She set her forearms on the kitchen counter, analyzing her son's reaction, a soft smile on her face.

"Hmm. O-okay." He narrowed his eyes at his mother. "You won't tell him anything embarrassing right? Or-or bring out the photo albums?"

"What photo albums?" she asked innocently, fluttering her eyelashes non-convincingly.

"Mom. . . ." Jean said warningly, crossing his arms.

"Oh, do you mean the one with the pictures of you and Marco as 3 year olds in a bubble bath? Or how about the videos of you when you went through your Disney songs stage?"

"Mom. You wouldn't." Jean was now looking horrified. For a few years while in elementary school, he would serenade his parents with various Disney songs. He would never admit it now, but he still knew all the words to "I Just Can't Wait to Be King." He unconsciously glanced toward the living room, in the direction of where there was a framed photo of him from one Halloween when he was 8 or so, dressed as Simba.

She smiled, coming around the counter to hug her son. The top of her head rested on his shoulder, soft hair tickling his neck. He hugged her back limply, still apprehensive over possible embarrassing moments being revealed to Rin. "I would never," she said into his shoulder, her voice muffled. Then she pulled back, the hint of a mischievous smile on her face. "At least, not the first time we meet him."

"Oh god." He cringed. He would make it a point to hide such material from his mom at some point in the future.

Mrs. Kirstein peered up at her son. "You really, really like this boy, don't you?" she asked softly.

Jean reddened. _That's kind of an understatement._ "Yeah."

"Hmmm. Then I'll be on my best behavior." She walked back around the counter, stirring the contents of a simmering pot.

"Thanks, Mom." He started to walk away. He had homework to do. And he wanted to text Rin. The past few days, since their Lasertron outing, they had texted each other for a bit after school and then always parted with a "good night" text. It made Jean fall asleep with a smile on his face.

"Does that mean you'll ask him over for dinner?" his mother called as he walked upstairs to his room.

Jean paused halfway up the stairs. "Yesssss," he drew out, giving in.

 

* * *

 

Saturday night came around all too quickly, Jean feeling mixed emotions about it. Of course, without hesitation, he would never turn down the opportunity to hang out with Rin. But. When caught unawares, the redhead had him feeling turned inside out. Nervous. Aching. Yearning. A couple times over the last week, Jean had found himself touching his own body at night to the thought of Rin, seeing him in his mind. On his bed. Underneath him as Jean got to touch him, kiss him, taste him all over. He never lasted long. It left him feeling unsettled for when he did see Rin at school and they would sneak kisses in the hallway or after school against Jean's car. He often had to pull away because of how worked up he would get from kissing the redhead. _Damned teenage hormones_ , Jean thought, frustrated.

Not to mention, he was still kind of worried that his parents--namely his mother--would accidentally slip something potentially embarrassing. And Jean wasn't prepared for what might come tumbling out. He was used to being in control of a situation, being able to see all of the moving parts and predicting an outcome. But everything with Rin was entirely new territory. So it required an adjustment period. Which he found himself sinking into, like a blessedly hot bath at the end of a long, trying day.

But beyond that, he found himself largely looking forward to his date with Rin. He enjoyed every single moment he spent near him, even if it were watching the back of his head while they took a quiz in AP American Lit or smiling secretly at each other in Physics. This past week Rin had even joined him at their lunch table, their knees touching under the table. Turns out that during the first two weeks of school, he had sat outside, enjoying the pleasant weather while it lasted, not minding the solitude. But when Jean had mentioned that he was more than welcome to sit with what was most of the boys soccer team and their close friends at lunch, Rin had smiled and said he would like that.

So on a Saturday night in late September, Jean found himself again walking up the front sidewalk of the Matsuokas' house, a little nervous, but less so than a week ago. He was wearing a simple black sweater and khaki pants, and he ran a hand forward through his hair to flatten down any strands that may have gotten out of place during his drive over. He breathed in deeply and then out slowly, raising a hand to knock on the door. Like a week ago, Gou answered the door, a smile immediately on her face as she saw who it was.

"Jean! Come in, come in." She stepped aside grandly, combing aside her bangs with her fingers. Jean hid a grin at the sight of her in My Little Pony pajama pants.

"Gou, hey how are you?" Jean stopped in the entryway, uncertain of where to go next. The pleasant scent of multiple fragrances hit him again, and he found himself breathing them in deeply. He heard a woman's singing voice come from the direction of what must be the kitchen. He looked that way, curious.

"Fantastic. Hey! I finished your combination. Wanna take it home with you? I have it upstairs."

"Sure." He watched as she made her way up the stairs, but then she stopped, peering over at him. "Aren't you coming up?" She regarded him quizzically.

"Oh. Yeah. Okay." He toed off his shoes, following her upstairs. The brunet started to get a feel of Gou's personality, similar but different at the same time when compared to her brother. They were both genuine, passionate people. But Gou seemed to be more up front with who she was, no filter, no need to hide. Whereas Rin at times seemed to hold back, quieter, occasionally displaying signs of anxiety. Jean found himself wondering why that was. Maybe because people had judged his family in the past? Somehow, Jean sensed that couldn't be all of it. He looked all around as he made his way up to the second level of the house. The home was decorated in earthy tones, all olive greens and browns and tans. It felt incredibly relaxed.

"Here, come on in. This is my room." Jean barely had time to see that there was a door at the end of the hallway upstairs that was closed--Rin's room?--before he was ushered in to the first room on the left.

"Wow," was all he could say, eyes wide.

Gou just smiled at him as he took a quick glance around. The room was on the large side, but seemed to be too small for all of the possessions that were packed inside, the walls painted an eggplant color. She had an entirely full bookcase--stocked with various genres of books, and plenty of them were even stacked in an unorganized way on top of others. There was a vanity on one side of the room, two drawers on each side of the wooden masterpiece. The top was covered with makeup, a few articles of clothing, a vase with a few carnations and other colorful flowers. The mirror had quite a lot of pictures wedged in between the glass and the wood paneling that framed it. Jean caught a glimpse of some group photos with Nagisa, Rei, Makoto, and Haru.

Gou's bed, though made, had various items stacked on it. A light jacket, a backpack, a textbook open with a pencil teetering off the page. Her closet door was open, stuffed with clothing, shoes, plastic totes. And lastly, in the corner, was a long table with more totes, clipboards, and boxes of what looked like glass bottles. _There's just so much stuff_ , Jean thought, eybrows raised.

"It's great, right?" She headed over to her workstation, and picked up a few bottles before she seemingly found the right one. "Here!" She held it in front of him proudly, a grin on her face.

Jean took it in his hand, pausing to read the label. It said, "Jean K." and a smiley face. Curious, he opened the glass bottle, carefully moving aside the dropper. He brought it up to his nose and breathed in lightly. Spicy. Floral. He inhaled slightly again. It was very pleasant to him. He smiled at Gou.

"It's nice. What is it?"

Gou had her hands clasped behind her back, happy. "Black pepper and lavender. Spicy and yet soothing. A balance of who you are and what you need." She stepped toward him. "Want to try wearing some? I can show you--" She held out a hand.

"Jean." The brunet's eyes flew toward the doorway, landing on Rin. Jean made some sort of audible sound, maybe a hiss, maybe a sucking of his teeth. He hadn't seen the male since after school yesterday. And though only a day had passed, it was like seeing him for the first time all over again. Because Rin--Rin looked impossibly beautiful.

The redhead was wearing a blue and black plaid shirt, the top two buttons unbuttoned, tight around his shoulders and clinging to his abdomen. It was of a length that didn't require tucking in. He had rolled the cuff of his sleeves up twice perhaps, showing Jean a good amount of forearm. His eyes paused on that bare expanse of skin, wanting to feel the definition of lean muscle under his fingertips. _Did--did Rin know how much he liked looking at his forearms??_ Jean reddened. He glanced down, partly in an effort to hide his face, seeing that the redhead had paired his shirt with dark wash jeans, pulling off an air of effortlessly stylish. And--as usual--Rin wasn't making it easy on him. The jeans fit semi-tight on his lower body, showing off his physique. _Why does he do this to me?_ raced through Jean's mind.

He had no idea what the expression on his face revealed to Rin, but he sure as hell felt like the redhead had again caught him off guard. Beside him, Gou was smirking easily, eyes amused and crinkled at Jean's reaction.

"Brother," she began, "I was just going to put some of the oil on Jean. Maybe you would like to, instead?" And she flounced out of the room.

Sweet Jesus.

Rin didn't even look at her as she passed. He was still standing, just inside the doorway, four fingers placed in each jean pocket. _Because they're too damn tight for the whole hand,_ Jean found himself thinking wildly.

"Did--did you want to wear some?" Rin asked, and Jean's eyes fixed on his face. He saw the dark red hair falling delicately into his face, he admired the soft, pink lips, he watched the redhead's cheeks become highlighted with color. And his eyes, those cognac eyes so expressive and genuine and alluring.

"Yes," Jean huffed out. Rin walked toward him slowly, reaching out with his hand to take the small bottle from Jean's hand, lifeless at his side. He gently shook it, and then opened it, letting a couple of drops fall onto his index finger. He set the bottle down on Gou's vanity, and then with his free hand, gently pulled on the hem of Jean's sweater.

"I think it's best when it's worn here," and he softly touched his finger to the base of Jean's neck intimately, rubbing the oil on in smooth circles, his other fingers moving in the same motion across his skin.

The brunet was fully conscious of Rin's proximity as he touched him, the scent that emanated off of him, the warmth of his breath. His hands, unbidden, found their way to the redhead's slim hips, squeezing them firmly. Rin, feeling the pressure, looked at Jean's face, unspoken words in his eyes.

Jean pulled Rin toward him, head turning to the side, catching the male's lips in a gentle kiss. Slowly, he touched his tongue to the redhead's soft lips, hearing Rin's soft sigh in response, lips parting. Their tongues mingled, small rolls against the other, and Jean felt Rin's hands grasp a shoulder, the back of his neck.

Their kiss evolved, sweet turning into needy. Hands flowed over each other's clothing, lips meeting each other urgently. Jean craved the feeling of Rin against him, all of his other senses awakening to the fact that he wanted more, could not resist, was hungry for the sight of the redhead panting . . .under him. But he didn't want to go there just yet with Rin. Everything between them was still so new, so shiny, like the buds on a tree in spring. The brunet wanted there to be growth, time to appreciate the bud before it flowered between them. He reluctantly pulled back, the foreheads of the two males touching, the moment intimate. And then Jean took a half-step back, though he laced his fingers on one hand through Rin's.

"Hi," Jean murmured, with a small smile.

"Hi," the redhead breathed. "You look great. I like this sweater on you." His free palm moved up Jean's chest and down his arm, sending tingles to the surface of his skin. Jean shivered.

"Thank you. You, uh. You look um, really . . . " Jean took in the blush of the redhead's cheeks but saw the enchanting shape and color of his eyes. The curve of his lips was inviting. _Gorgeous, hot, beautiful, cute_ , Jean thought. "Cot."

The brunet stiffened. _Oh no, I did it again_. Waves of embarrassment threatened to to take him over. _He always does this to me_. But Rin's smile grew at the word. "Cot?"

"I meant to say 'hot'" and here Jean's face grew overly warm, and he squeezed his eyes shut, "but was also thinking 'cute' and uh it came out as 'cot.'"

"You think I'm hot?" Rin asked in a low voice, eyes looking off to the side.

Jean opened his eyes, taking in Rin's somewhat bashful expression, his natural humility. "Yes. But I don't think that word even begins to describe what I think of you," he said gently. Rin's looked back to Jean's kobicha eyes, his expression serious as he considered the brunet's words. Something in Jean's expression must have convinced him of the truth of what he had said, because he smiled brightly. His radiance left Jean momentarily stunned, and he had to shake his head to get his thoughts back in order. _You enchant me_ , Jean whispered in his head.

"We should go. We might be late for the movie." Rin nodded, leading him from the room. The brunet hung onto their attachment, relishing the connection between them.

"Oh." Rin said as they reached the base of the stairs, whirling around to face Jean. The brunet heard the woman's singing voice again. "I just remembered. My mom . . . wants to meet you." He slightly reddened, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. His cognac eyes were wide and anxious.

"Okay, great." Jean squeezed his hand once, and then released it. He didn't know if it would be too forward of him to be holding Rin's hand in front of his mother. The redhead led the way to the kitchen, and Jean found himself in awe at his surroundings. The dining room had potted plants everywhere, with various deocrations on the sides of the pots. He could see a sliding glass door that seemed to lead out to their backyard, and there were more plants in pots outside. And what looked like a garden. And there were bunches of drying out herbs tied together, hanging upside down off of cabinets.

"Mom, this is Jean. Jean, this is my mother." Rin was looking self-conscious, nervous for this meeting, eyes shifting from his mother and then back to the brunet.

"Jean! I am so glad I got to meet you, dear. I have heard about you from Gou, and Rin of course." Rin's mother was tall and slender, with red hair a shade darker than her children. She had it braided off to the side, and it came down to her elbow. Her eyes were a dark brown color, and something about her just radiated peace and warmth. Jean watched as she walked over to him, loosely grasping onto his elbows, and then leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.

The brunet was surprised at the gesture, and he was sure it showed on his face. "It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Matsuoka," he said genuinely.

"You're always welcome here," she said, and then with a smile released him. "I hope you two have fun at the movies."

"Thanks mom," Rin said, and then his mother kissed him on the cheek as well.

"Jean, you'll return one night for dinner soon?" Mrs. Matsuoka asked, glancing first at Jean and then Rin.

"Yes ma'am, I'd love that." And he really would. Every minute he spent in Rin's house, getting to learn more about him, see more about him, made him fall for the redhead even more.

Rin looked over at Jean, beautiful eyes tender.

"Wonderful. Have a great time."

"Thank you. Good night." Jean turned away first, heading for the entryway. So he didn't see the fond expression on Mrs. Matsuoka's face that she directed toward the two males, though her son did.  
  
They said a quick good-bye to Gou, who passed them on her way into the kitchen, an empty glass in her hand.

"Bye," she called after them in her sing-song voice.

Once in the car and on their way, Jean said sincerely, "Rin, your family is great. I really can't wait to come over next."

"I'm glad," Rin said, briefly looking down before clasping his hands in his lap. "I can tell that my sister and mother like you already."

Jean smiled softly. "Really? That's awesome." He glanced over at Rin. "Next time . . . um . . . can I see your room?"

"Yeah," Rin said quietly, a small smile on his face. Jean reached over, placing a hand on top of one of Rin's, lacing their fingers together. He kept them joined for the rest of the drive.

The sun was low in the sky as they made their way into the movie theater. Jean had asked Rin what he wanted to see, but the redhead had left it up to him. So Jean had picked some sort of comedy movie that had been out for quite a few weeks now. He had planned to see it at some point with Marco, but they had never gotten around to it. They walked into the theater some five minutes before the show began, and saw that there were only a few other groups inside seated. Jean led the way down an unoccupied aisle near the back, lighting hazy. The seats in this theater had recently been redone--they were no longer the old, creaky, uncomfortable seats where the aisles were closely grouped together. Now each seat was a powered recliner, with optional arm rests. Jean finally halted near a couple of seats near the middle of their row and sat. Both he and Rin reclined their seats to a comfortable position, the arm rest previously having been lifted back so that no obstacle separated their long bodies from each other.

And now Jean felt nervousness wind its way around his body again, unsure of how to act. This was his first date ever. And though he and Rin had already hung out together, had already spent a good amount of time kissing and leaning into each other, he could feel his heart pumping fast. Should he move a little closer? Should he kiss him? No, he should wait. Maybe hold his hand? But Rin had his hands in his lap. Jean exhaled, fidgeting in his seat. And maybe Rin heard him and knew the source of his anxiety, because as the previews began, he moved his hand on Jean's side and gently bumped the brunet's, winding his hand underneath until their fingers were once again laced together.

Jean felt his heart swell with feelings for Rin, and he couldn't help it--he looked over at the male, his face in profile. The redhead was biting his lip, and goddamn if that wasn't appealing, though Rin probably wasn't even aiming for that. His hair fell forward so that Jean couldn't see his eyes. The brunet suddenly felt the urgent need to see them, to get an inkling of what Rin was feeling in that moment. Because the redhead was no good at hiding his emotions. His eyes betrayed him. So Jean turned his body slightly to the right, using his free hand to touch Rin's chin, fingers tilting his face sideways. He encountered no resistance.

The lighting in the theater masked the color of Rin's eyes from Jean. But they could never hide their depth. Their clarity. Their affection. The brunet could only stare helplessly for a handful of beats, breathless. And then Rin's eyes were changing, becoming heated. Impassioned. His lips now parted. Jean felt his heart pounding within his ribcage, beating at a rapid rhythm, belonging to Rin. And then he leaned the rest of the way forward, lips once again joining the redhead's.

The theater was dark around them, faint illumination coming from the aisle lights. The bright screen cast different colors on the pair, depending on the scene. The movie had begun, opening dialogue adding to an uninteresting exposition. But they saw none of it.

Jean had gradually moved his free hand from Rin's chin down to a strong shoulder, fingers kneading at the muscle. It was hard and defined under his digits. He trailed his hand down slowly, down Rin's side, in the space between his arm and ribcage. He could feel the edge of firm musculature under his palm as he moved down and over the plaid shirt. He eventually settled on his right hip, pulling Rin's entire body close to him, as close as he could get.

Rin made a small noise of surprise against Jean's mouth, his body warm against the brunet's. It made Jean shift his hips, the stirrings of an arousal making itself known. And he couldn't help himself again. Rin just did something to him, turned on that switch inside Jean that turned all other lights off. Because his light was bright enough to illuminate everything else. He trailed his hand down slowly, feeling the redhead shiver against him. He found the spot right above Rin's right knee, palm able to feel thigh muscles through the jean material. Their kisses now were coming quicker, heated, Jean having a serious problem now in his khakis. He tried to push his hips back, but that only made it feel more pleasureable. The brunet squeezed at the top of Rin's leg, and to his surprise, felt the redhead stiffen and pull his lips back.

"That--that tickles," he explained breathily. Jean pulled back a bit, a little out of breath himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, moving his hand off of Rin's knee. He saw a movie theater employee making his way up the aisle, no doubt doing their mandatory check-up in each theater. Jean slowly moved all the way back, back relaxing against the leathery material of the reclining seat. The employee walked past their aisle, all the way to the back, and then back down and out of the theater.

Rin lifted their joined hands, placing Jean's hand on top of his own left knee, and then his own hand on top.

"Just don't squeeze, I'm very ticklish there," the redhead whispered. Learning this about Rin delighted Jean-it was seeing a good kind of vulnerability, an endearing one.

"Ok, I won't," he whispered back. And he wouldn't--at least for tonight. The brunet was suddenly reminded of his own mother who had said something similar to him a few days ago. He smiled wryly at himself. He really would have to hide those albums and their old family videos before his mother got ahold of them. And then the two males attempted to watch the movie, having missed a good portion of the beginning. But Jean found he couldn't concentrate, occasionally looking over at the beautiful male beside him. Which was at least 5000% better of a view. Rin must have known Jean was staring at him, for when Jean's peeping extended over into the minute realm instead of seconds, the redhead's face would flush, his hand tightening on top of Jean's.

 

* * *

 

Dinner at the Kirstein's went well, in Jean's opinion. He had asked Rin a few days ago what he liked to eat, and the redhead had lit up. "Anything spicy! And meat!" He had then gone on to tell Jean how he had to prepare all of his own meat dishes at his house, since his mother and sister were vegan. It seemed that Mrs. Matsuoka understood Rin's reasons for needing to eat a lot of protein for swimming. And she respected his choice for wanting to eat it even if he hadn't decided it was necessary to maintain his body condition for swimming. She only asked that he researched his ingredients, buying free-range chicken and grass fed beef. Jean thought about that, never having really considered it before. The way Rin explained it all, with an earnest tone to his voice, made the brunet want to listen to him forever. He loved listening to him and watching him talk about things that mattered to him. Getting to see these things about Rin just made Jean wonder exactly how he could categorize his feelings for the beautiful male, cherishing those intangible components that made the redhead who he was.

Jean's parents had made spicy beef with vegetable stir fry and rice for dinner. When Jean and Rin had returned to the Kirsteins' house, Rin perked up as they made their way through the front door.

"It smells wonderful in here," he had murmured, breathing in.

When Jean had introduced his parents to Rin, the brunet had held his breath, a little tense that his mother might go against her word and let something embarrassing slip. But she hadn't. She had glowed at the sight of the two teenagers, hugging Rin lightly. Over the redhead's shoulder, she winked at her son.

"Mom," Jean had mouthed, brows furrowed.

Mr. Kirstein had shaken Rin's hand, and as they sat down to dinner, his parents had politely asked Rin about himself. He had responded in kind with his answers, talking about his interests in swimming. He mentioned his family when asked, but avoided saying too much about their "free spirited" lifestyle. Jean's eyes never strayed too far away from the redhead, who was sitting across from him at the dinner table. When Rin took his first bite of dinner, he had chewed slowly, eyes wide and hands suddenly still.

"Rin? Are you all right?" Mr. Kirstein asked kindly.

"This is so . . . delicious," Rin said reverently, beaming. Mrs. Kirstein smiled, catching Jean drinking in Rin's expression. She nudged at his shin under the table with her foot. He snapped out of it, flushing, not meeting anyone's eyes.

After dinner, Rin offered to help with cleaning up, sincere in his offer. He, Gou, and his mother were a unit when it came to household chores--cooking dinner, cleaning, etc. They each played an integral part, and there was never any moaning about having to help out. Mrs. Kirstein laid a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you, but I'll take care of it." She paused, and then added impishly, "Besides, whenever Jean loads the dishwasher, he does it incorrectly. It's just easier if his dad and I take care of it for tonight."

"Thanks mom," Jean said, exasperated. "Rin, wanna go check out my room?" The brunet was eager to get away from his parents.

Rin followed behind Jean, hoping the nervousness he had felt most of the night wasn't obvious to Jean. True, it had been stronger at the beginning of the night when he had first seen the brunet in Gou's room. He found Jean to be so incredibly handsome, even from that very first day he met him. Even those moments of awkwardness that he seemed to bring out in Jean--they were so incredibly endearing. Each spoken word between them, each caress served to ease Rin's apprehension about . . . things. Because Jean was different, he saw that very clearly now. He had begun to understand it weeks ago. Rin wasn't just a distraction to him, just a means to pass the time. The way he looked at Rin, touched him, spoke to him . . . it was as if he couldn't quite believe he was real. And to feel so valued, and cared about, it was something entirely new to explore, to marvel at. It quelled some of that nervous energy in him.

The redhead watched as Jean paused next to a door that was slightly open, as if preparing himself before showing Rin what was within. Then with a quick glance back at Rin, Jean exhaled and pushed open his door, stopping to turn on his bedroom light.

"Well, this is my room," he said quietly, gesturing around. Rin could see that he was chewing on the inside of his mouth. He could tell the brunet was anxious. Rin stepped closer to him, lacing their fingers together, as he began to look around. He saw Jean's head swivel toward him at the gesture, exhaling slowly, calming down.

The first thought that crossed Rin's mind about Jean's room was organized. Everything was neatly stacked or put together in a way that created a symmetry of form or function. He had a 3-shelf bookcase, and Rin could see that the books were neatly shelved in such a way that the size of the cover of each book was about the same size of its neighbor. His bed occupied one corner of the room, his glass-top computer desk another. Everything seemed so balanced, and harmonious in its own organized way. Strategic in its placement. The closet door was closed, but Rin had no doubt that it was tidy. There was a set of two parallel black shelves on the wall, full of what looked like soccer trophies. In the middle on the lower one, Rin could see a black framed photograph of what appeared to be a much younger Jean and Marco. The room told him so many things about Jean, some of which he had already come to know. But he saw something new. Jean didn't hide. What you saw is what you got. The brunet didn't hold back from being who he was, ever. But there were many layers to it, one just had to take time to peruse each one. The redhead smiled, turning back to Jean.

"I like it."

"Yeah?" Jean scratched at the back of his head absentmindedly with his free hand.

"Yeah."

Rin saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A large gray cat with pretty blue eyes had risen from Jean's gray comforter. It stretched luxuriously and stared at the pair of them with drowsy eyes.

Jean stepped forward, releasing Rin's hand. "Awww Nala, you're awake," he cooed, stepping forward to scratch a spot behind its ears. Rin looked on in amazement. To see Jean like this, so delicate and cute with an animal was priceless. His body was turned so that he was facing Rin, but leaning over to pet the cat.

"Rin, this is my cat, Nala. I've had her since I was a kid. She's pretty old now. But she's the best," Jean trailed off kind of sheepishly, eyes flitting up to Rin to see his reaction. Nala, meanwhile, had her eyes closed, leaning into Jean's fingers as he continued to scratch softly at her fur.

"Nala is very pretty," Rin commented, coming closer. "Can I pet her?"

"Of course. She's the sweetest cat you'll ever meet," Jean said with pride. Rin never had a pet of his own, so he was tentative with reaching down to touch Nala. Slowly, he ran his fingertips over the fur on the top of her head. She seemed to like the attention, moving closer to Rin and rubbing up against him.

"She likes you," Jean smiled, brown eyes warm. He sat down on his bed, gesturing for Rin to do the same. Rin perched on the edge, feeling some of that earlier nervous energy take residence in his limbs. Here he was, in Jean's room. Alone. Well, besides the presence of a certain feline. But away from other people. And the type of kissing they had done earlier. . . Rin's face flushed, and he bit his lip in an attempt to get his thoughts under control.

"Rin, everything okay?" Jean watched as Nala jumped off of the bed and then made her way out of the room. The brunet got up and shut the door, returning to his bed, but sitting closer to Rin this time.

"Yeah--yeah, I'm fine." Rin smiled reassuringly. He peeked at Jean's face, seeing his brows were knit in worry. "Really, I am. I was just thinking . . . "

"About?" Jean reached a hand over and touched Rin's hair, threading his fingers through it. Rin thought he might combust from the touch.

"Um . . . about . . . uh," he paused, internally telling himself to focus, "the movie. I wonder if we'll ever know what happened at the beginning."

Jean smiled wryly, his own cheeks picking up some color from a blush. "Maybe we can watch it again, sometime . . . and I'll try to keep my hands to myself."

 _Don't_ , Rin thought fervently. He tried to communicate this to Jean through his facial expression, and maybe Jean understood a little of what he was thinking. Because his eyes widened, and his hand stopped moving through Rin's soft red locks.

"Do, uh, do you want to watch something? On tv? I think there was a pre-season hockey game on . . "Jean tapped the fingers of his free hand against his gray comforter, a nervous habit.

"Sure."

They began watching the game, both of them leaning against the headboard with pillows propped up against their back. Jean had turned off the light, so the room was only illuminated by the brightness of his flatscreen tv. They watched for some minutes in comfortable but slightly nervous silence, and Rin could hear Jean's fingertips drumming a pattern on his other side.

"Would you like anything?" Jean asked suddenly. "Water? Snacks? Anything?"

"I'm fine," Rin smiled, adjusting himself into a slightly more comfortable position on the bed. "Thank you though."

"Okay, I'll be right back. I'm going to get a glass of water." Rin nodded, and he heard Jean's footsteps on the stairs. A commercial came on, and he checked his phone. There was an unread text from Nagisa.

Nagisa: _Having fun on your date?? With Captain Handsome? Mr. Soccer? Lasertron Aficionado? DDR runner up?_

Rin smiled. There was no chance of his responding. He knew that by doing so, it would only open up a can of worms, and that one text would lead to 10. Or more. Possibly a phone call.

"Something funny?" Jean asked as he shut his bedroom door back behind him.

"Oh. Just Nagisa asking me if I was having a fun time tonight." Rin set his phone down beside him. There was no chance of it fitting into his front pocket.

"Yeah? And are you having a fun time?" Jean plopped down beside him, this time a little closer than before.

Rin suddenly felt daring. "You know how you asked me if I wanted anything before?" Jean nodded, wondering where this was going.

"Well, I do want something. It would be really nice to get another kiss--"

Jean didn't even let him finish his sentence. He turned his torso over to Rin, settling a hand on the redhead's hip, a spot that seemed to be a favorite of his. Then his lips found Rin's, and their kissing was agonizingly slow, their lips breaking apart between kisses and making a distinct sound between each one. They took their time getting more familiar with the other's movements, the way Rin's jaw would drop when Jean would more forcefully press against his mouth. Or how Jean seemed to like tonguing Rin slowly, as if he relished his taste, squeezing his hip at the same time. It was all very maddening to both of them.

Somehow Jean found that they were both mostly lying down, bodies turned on their side to face each other as they made out. Jean still had a hand on Rin's hip. He felt his pulse racing, and he pulled back to look at Rin. His beautiful cognac eyes were half-open, pinkish lips parted slightly as he caught his breath. Jean had never been more turned on. He wound his free arm underneath the redhead, pulling him as close to his own body as he could. Rin gasped out a little in surprise, but offered no resistance. Jean found himself liking those little gasps that escaped out of Rin's mouth when he showed some assertiveness.

They began kissing again, but this time it was more needy. Jean heard little moans come from Rin's mouth, and the brunet rotated his hips into the redhead's. Ahhh. Friction. It felt . . .incredible. Rin moaned softly again, both of them beginning to slowly rub up against each other. Jean snaked a leg through Rin's, making it easier for the both of them to feel each other the way they wanted to.

And then Rin was moving. Jean opened his eyes in hazy arousal, watching as Rin rose up onto his knees, and then moved one long leg over Jean's body, straddling him. Jean maneuvered onto his back, and didn't hesitate to pull Rin down onto his chest. They continued to kiss, minds hazy as their hips continued to work into each other. And then they were both moaning into each other's mouths as they kissed. Jean could feel a little pre-cum dampen his boxer briefs. Oh god, he wanted Rin so badly.

"Jean," Rin murmured into his ear. "Touch me . . ."

Jean's brain stuttered, stalled. _What? Touch him?? Where??_

He didn't move his hands, unsure of where exactly he was permitted to touch, what Rin had in mind. So Rin did it for him. The redhead sat up on his lap, cheeks flushed with passion, and with slight embarrassment. Had he ever looked more beautiful than at that moment? Jean wasn't sure, wasn't in a frame of mind to be a good judge of it. Rin gently took Jean's hand into his own and moved it under his plaid shirt, their linked hands creating a slow trail across his defined abs, traveling up and coming to a stop at the center of his chest. Jean felt the curve of defined muscles under his palm, his fingertips. His hips moved up into Rin of their own accord, spurred into action at the feel of the redhead's bare skin, his voice.

"Your other one too . . ." Rin said softly. _Sweet Jesus have mercy._

With a huff of breath, Jean moved his other hand slowly up under Rin's shirt, his wrists causing the plaid shirt to rise and reveal creamy skin and a torso full of muscles that had been the subject of more than one of Jean's fantasies late at night. He moved both of his hands so that they grasped onto the sides of his ribcage, holding him tightly and pulling down at the same time to encourage Rin's continued motion onto Jean's erect cock.

"Jean. . . " Rin murmured again, his own hands moving under the brunet's sweater. "Ah god, Jean. . ."

Jean Kirstein's mind was fucked.

He could do this. He knew the dynamics of sex with another male. There had been some pages on the internet lately that he had read that had been especially helpful and informative. And he knew every single cell in his body was screaming at him in barely restrained desire for him to do this.

But.

BUT.

He . . . he didn't want it to happen like this.

"Rin," Jean whispered, forcing his body to stop moving against the redhead's, withdrawing his hands from Rin's perfect body. "Rin, uh, can we . . . talk? Um."

Rin suddenly stiffened on top of him, eyes wide. "Talk?"

"Yeah . . . um . . .I'm not . . . ready."

Silence.

"Oh. OH." Rin climbed off of him hurriedly, making his way off of the bed and walking to the far side of Jean's room, as far as he could get from the brunet. He saw the redhead cover his eyes with his hands.

"Rin?"

More silence.

Jean half-rolled, half climbed off of his bed, walking over to where Rin stood with his back to him. "Hey," Jean said softly, laying a hand on the redhead's shoulder and turning him around. "What's going on?"

Rin let his hands drop to his sides, but he was looking at the ground. "I'm . . . so sorry. I feel so embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" Jean moved his hands forward, intertwining them with the redhead's, needing to feel the smoothness of Rin's fingers against his.

"Yeah. I wasn't thinking, I guess. I was caught up in how you make me feel, how it feels when we are together, and I didn't stop to think about how fast this might be going. I'm sorry," he said again.

"Hey, don't apologize. Will you--will you come and sit with me? On the bed?"

Rin nodded, and Jean kept one of their hands linked together as they sat down.

"Rin." Jean looked steadily at the redhead until he looked up at the brunet. "I--hmm. This is kinda hard to say." He scratched at the back of his head. Rin was looking at him worriedly, and he squeezed Jean's hand.

"I have all of these . . . intense feelings for you. It's so very difficult to explain. I've only known you for three weeks, but it's like, ever since that first time I saw you, you just _do_ something to me. And maybe that sounds ridiculous, I don't know. When you talk, I want everyone else to stop speaking so I can just _listen_ to how your voice sounds, its energy and passion. And when you're in the room, I can't _concentrate_." Jean exhaled, pausing for a moment. "And--and times like this, you make it so incredibly hard for me to not, to stop myself from doing more. Because believe me, I want to. I really do. You really are just that wonderful, and beautiful. I lo-like, I like everything about you. Which makes me want to wait to uh, have sex, until I can tell you, until I am ready to say, uhm . . ."

"Jean." Rin's eyes had gone soft, the worry vanished from his face. "I understand. And thank you. You don't know how very happy it makes me to hear you say that. It's kind of unbelievable, to be honest. That someone can be as--as incredible as you are. I think it makes me . . .like you even more than I already do, if that's possible." He smiled sweetly, touching Jean's cheek, eyes exploring Jean's face as if it were the first time seeing it. "I was worried. . . that maybe you didn't want to . . . do more because maybe you didn't care about me as much as I care about you. And that you were just trying to be nice. Because I already know you're a good guy."

Jean shook his head at the redhead. "It's nothing like that. If anything, it's because I have more feelings for you than I know what to do with at the moment. And they've all come on so fast, and it's crazy because, huh, I've never felt like this for someone before. You're my first . . . everything. And I want to do right by you, I want to do this whole thing that is us _the right way_ and . . . and honor you."

Rin's face lit up at that, opening himself up completely to Jean, putting his absolute trust in him. It had been so difficult over the past year to trust anybody new, but Jean was different. He could feel himself shedding some of his insecurities, feeling his own self-worth begin to grow again.

"Rin, I want to ask you something."

"Hmm? Yeah?" Rin squeezed his hand again, this time to encourage Jean to ask his question.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

Rin's eyes widened, not having expected Jean to ask that. His mouth opened a little, and then he shut it.

Jean misinterpreted his silence and looked away. "Ah, I'm sorry. Maybe it's too soon?" He cringed.

"No that's not it, Jean. Not it at all." Jean turned back to look at Rin, a question in his eyes. The redhead took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "I would love to be your boyfriend . . .but I want to tell you something first. About me. And then you can still decide if you want to ask me that."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin's story.
> 
> Sexual tension (heh heh).
> 
> A first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating has been changed to explicit!

_Today_.

That's usually all the texts ever said. Rin scrolled up on his phone to skim over the weeks of communication. Yup. Today. The redhead had bothered to respond the first few times, but he never got a response back. So he had stopped. And it's not like he had much of a choice in the matter, anyways. Well . . .he did. But Rin knew, and so did Sousuke, that he would never say no.

Rin sighed, setting his phone back on his desk. He saw Haru eye him out of the corner of his eye for a few seconds, but when Rin looked his way, Haru had already turned his attention back to the novel they were reading for Honors English 10. His friends had yet to say something to him about all of this, but he knew it was coming. Two weeks ago Nagisa had returned to the locker room late to get a forgotten textbook . . . and he had seen.

During swim practice later that afternoon, Rin felt tense. It was probably hard for an outsider to notice, but he felt off. His turns were awkward, his breathing mistimed. His performance had been getting steadily worse these past weeks, but he didn't really know how he could fix it. The activity he used to love more than anything, swimming, now strangely just felt . . . neutral. It bothered him. Rin felt relieved when Coach Sasabe called an end to their team practice. He turned away from the group to kill time doing more laps in the pool.

"Rin."

The redhead reluctantly turned around. Haru was alone, standing before him, a towel slung around his shoulders. His face was unscrutable as he regarded Rin, but there seemed to be the tinest furrowing of his brows, a giveaway that he was about to do something he thought of as unpleasant.

"What is it, Haru?" he asked quietly, eyes narrowed.

"I wanted to talk to you for a minute." Haru shifted his weight awkwardly, his blue eyes flitting to the pool tile. This was not in the realm of things that Haruka Nanase was good at, and it showed.

"Well?" Rin crossed his arms.

His friend inhaled noticeably before speaking, and when he now looked at Rin, the redhead saw crystal clear determination there. "You haven't been yourself lately. And we've all noticed. Your times are off. You're moody. You . . . you don't even talk to us anymore. And I know why."

Rin glared at his childhood best friend, a fiery indignation igniting in his chest. "I love how all of you are talking about me behind my back. What great friends you are."

"Rin! Stop it. We are _worried_ about you. We care about you. And we hate seeing you like this. You're the one who has always been so _alive_ and now . . . " Haru's words trailed off, and he frowned, his blue eyes shimmering with emotion.

The redhead laughed mirthlessly. "Thanks, Haru, but I'm fine." He didn't need them worrying about him. There was nothing they could do to help him anyways, there was no way out. Rin started to turn away, but he felt an iron-like grip close around his wrist. Shock reverberated through the redhead's frame.

"No, you're not!" Now the worry was plain on Haru's face. "Ever since you and Sousuke have been . . . I don't know, _fooling around_ or whatever, you've been like this. Why? Why do you keep letting him do this to you?"

Rin froze, eyes wide. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen his friend like this. A silence fell between him and Haru, with the black-haired male still keeping a grip on his arm. Seconds ticked by, and Rin's mind scrabbled to find a reason himself.

"I don't know . . ." Rin finally whispered. "It doesn't make any sense, I know."

"Then don't stay after today," Haru pleaded. "Come over to my house, we'll talk."

Rin looked down at the ground, the blue and white pool tile damp at his feet. He wanted to, he really did. He could see it now. Just him and Haru, watching one of his Food Network shows. Eating some of the food that his friend was so good at cooking. Maybe letting Haru convince him to try whatever new and weird thing he had found at the store. Talking, maybe feeling better than he had in a long time. Figuring things out. He finally raised his head, a defeated look on his face.

"I can't, Haru," he said sadly. And then Rin twisted his arm out of Haru's grasp, and dove into the pool.

Half an hour later or so, Rin finally climbed out of the pool. The locker room was silent. Everyone was gone. He set his swimming cap aside, and then peeled off his jammers. He hesitated at his locker, shutting his eyes. He had never felt so incredibly alone, so lost, no motivation rising within him to take action. The redhead recalled Haru's words. He could still go over, he could still tell Haru everything about how he felt. About how he was still unsure if he wanted to go to Australia for the 11th grade. How it would all be so new and different and his friends wouldn't be there. About this endless cycle of mess with Sousuke. He reached for his phone, but then stopped. No.

The shower water was warm, coating his chlorinated skin. He lathered some soap onto his body, washing away the harsh chemical smell that he sometimes just couldn't get completely off of his skin. Each of his movements were slow. Careful. Deliberate. As if by doing so he could hold himself together somehow. Delay the inevitable.  His mind hovered somewhere between heightened anticipation and endless desolation.

So when two hands grabbed onto his shoulders and turned him around, he was not alarmed. Sousuke stood in front of him, strong and tall and eyes fixed on Rin's face. The redhead could feel it, could feel those blue eyes trained on him, but he wasn't ready to face them just yet. Which was how Sousuke wanted it.

One of Sousuke's large hands moved up, combing through Rin's hair and then latching ungently onto the ends of fine, red strands.

"You looked good today," Sousuke rumbled in his deep voice.

Rin slowly looked up, seeing the muscular chest defined and strengthened by hours of practice on the football field. Brown hair was already wet from shower water and streams were falling to the tiled floor. He had just a couple seconds to see the frozen blue of the male's eyes before Sousuke smashed his lips onto his own. He felt himself giving way for what the taller male wanted, what Sousuke would take from Rin. The kissing never lasted long. It wasn't what Sousuke was here for, after all. Soon enough, he turned Rin around, one hand on his shoulder, another slowly following a sleek path down his back, over his ass. Rin faced the wall of the showers, his eyes on the pattern of blue and white tiles between his fingers, under his feet.

Sousuke had his way with him, not really hurrying or taking his time, and then left without another word. Rin slowly slid to the ground in the showers. A moment or two later, the tears began, and he rested his head against the wall. He had been wrong before, about never feeling more alone. This now felt worse.

A few weeks or so passed like this, and then Makoto and Haru cornered him one day before swim practice, both of them looking grimly determined. This wasn't going to be pleasant, Rin knew.  He hadn't spoken to either of them in about a week.

"We want to show you something," Haru said after a minute of silent deliberation.

Rin sighed. "What?"

Makoto did something on his phone, and then wordlessly handed it over to Rin.

It was a picture of two figures in the middle of a kiss. At first, Rin didn't know why Makoto and Haru had chosen to show him this. But then he got a closer look. The picture had been taken so that you could see the majority of the taller person's face, clearly a male. His hands were on his companion's hips, his head inclined down a little in order to compensate for the shorter height of the other. Rin couldn't see her face, but he saw the spill of long, black hair. The skirt swaying in a way that suggested that maybe there had been a breeze, or maybe the male had caught her off-guard. But none of these things mattered in the end. Because Rin recognized the male. And he felt something inside of himself tumble and fall.

Sousuke.

It was clearly Sousuke, his part-time shower fuck buddy. Well. More like part-time shower fuck stranger.

"He didn't see us. I wanted to say something . . . but. . . we figured that it wasn't our place," Makoto said quietly. "We--we didn't recognize the girl."

Rin gave him back his phone. And then he gathered his stuff, and left the school.

On Monday, he got a text.

_Today_

He must have read it a hundred times. And then he set his phone back on his desk and looked determinedly over at Haru.

"I'm going to Australia."

 

* * *

 

"So I went to Australia, thinking that was the solution to everything. Thinking that if I got away from it all, it would somehow solve itself. Isn't that the stupidest thing you've ever heard?" Rin looked up at Jean, his normally warm eyes shining with the threat of tears. He had provided Jean with a brief description of what had transpired during the late spring of his sophomore year of high school, without going into explicit details.

"Rin . . ." Jean pulled the redhead into his arms, and felt dampness on his shirt. He felt a myriad of things in that moment, but the strongest was the need to comfort Rin. He knew, somehow, that the redhead hadn't talked to anyone else about this. "What happened to you . . . that was an impossible situation. You acted with courage to get out of it, doing what you felt was right."

"Courage?" Rin moved back, covering his eyes. "That wasn't courage, Jean. I was a coward. I didn't confront him. I didn't ever once try to put a stop to what we did for weeks. I just let it happen. And then took the easy way out. Choosing to leave the country instead of dealing with the problem."

"It isn't always easy to handle a problem head on like that, though," Jean said earnestly, moving to grasp Rin's hand in one of his own.

"It is for you, though." Rin said softly, looking at Jean. There were tear tracks on his face, and the strength of his emotions rendered him beautifully vulnerable, but trusting in Jean's presence. "You are always strong. You're a great leader. I admire you for that."

Jean was silent for a moment. He looked down at their joined hands, and then back at Rin's face. "And I admire you for your ability to take a step back and _feel_ something before acting on it. I've been in a few fights before, gotten into trouble. Maybe if I had been more like you, I could have avoided it." He let his thoughts cool for a moment, for the thought of maiming the male that had done this emotional damage to Rin was all too present. He felt his hand tighten on Rin's, and he exhaled loudly.

"Rin. Thank you for trusting me with this." Jean had to pause again as an angry shudder passed through him. It was very difficult to contain the anger. But it was necessary. Rin was more important to him. "It couldnt've been easy to talk about it. But why would you think that it would hold me back from wanting to be with you?"

Rin knit his brows. "Because . . . because I'm nothing like you thought. It's important to me that you know who I really am. I let him do that to me for weeks. I was too weak to put a stop to it. I _was_ a coward. And then I just ran away from it all. In Australia, I didn't do well at all in their program. And when I came back home, I even chose to go to another school to avoid the problem again."

"Do you . . . still have feelings for him?" Jean asked carefully.

Rin looked horrified. "NO. No. Not at all." He moved so that his back was against the wall, his long legs in front of him. "I think I stopped feeling that way for him even before I left for Australia, to be honest. The problem now is me. Choosing to avoid my problems instead of dealing with them. I don't know why I do that. It never was that way before. Ever since . . . him . . . I just get so scared sometimes. I hate it so goddamn much."

Jean moved to sit beside the redhead, the sides of their bodies touching, fingers still laced together. He put his thoughts together, desperately wishing he was as good with words as Marco was, as wise as his best friend. "Rin--you haven't been back home for very long. I think it's only natural you feel that way sometimes. You're probably still trying to figure it all out, and maybe you haven't even talked to anyone about it. See?" He squeezed Rin's hand for emphasis, his words earnest. "This is why I think you're brave. You don't give yourself any credit. You were brave in the first place to leave, to get yourself out of that crappy situation with someone who clearly was taking advantage of your feelings. Who didn't value you for being the smart and wonderful and beautiful person that you are. Maybe confrontation isn't part of who you ever were. And there isn't anything wrong with that. Choosing to handle a problem in other ways is the smarter thing to do, actually. And from the sound of it, you didn't choose to go to Australia just because of him. I know you. I know how swimming is so important to you. I know what a passionate person you are. And if anything, I admire you more now that you told me about all of this."

"What?" Rin said, surprised. He was looking at Jean disbelievingly, shaking his head.

"I'm serious. And look, you _came back_. After you figured out that maybe Australia wasn't the place to be, you still came back even though it still made you uncomfortable to be here. That's courage. Don't you see? We aren't cowards because we are still scared of the things that hurt us. You're brave because you're figuring out a way to deal with it. And sometimes those solutions aren't so easy to find."

Rin let out a low breath, taking a moment for he responded. "You're right, you know. I haven't talked to anyone about this. It's . . . I've always preferred to figure things out on my own." He paused, thinking. "I didn't go back to Iwatobi because I didn't want to be disappointed in myself. It actually didn't have anything to do with him. I mean, yeah, I don't want to see him again. But I left the school in the first place to pursue swimming on a more competitive level and failed. I was nowhere near being close to having the requisite mindset. I didn't tell Haru and the others that I was coming back, I think Gou told them. She's the manager of their team. I thought they would think I was a failure, or that I gave up on my dream. I didn't know what to tell them. How could I possibly begin to explain any of it to them?"

Jean leaned over, pressing his lips to Rin's soft hair. "I don't think they want an explanation, Rin. From what I know of your friends, they would never think of you as a failure. I think they're just happy to see you and spend time with you. And glad to see that you're happier now than when you left. Nagisa mentioned it the other day."

"He did?" Rin pivoted his head to look at Jean, his eyes gentle and warm again.

"Yeah," Jean said softly.

"Well, he was right about that. I am happier. Swimming is fun again. Spending time with my friends and laughing is better than ever. And you--you are a big part of why I'm happy, too." A flush crept onto Rin's cheeks, and he looked away.

Jean felt his own cheeks warm up, and he felt glad that his room was dark so that Rin wouldn't be able to see it unless he scrutinized his face up close.

"Hey, Rin?"

"Hmm?" The redhead turned back to him, a soft smile on his face. He lifted a leg over the top of one of Jean's, effectively linking their other limbs together as well.

"I just want you to know one more thing." Jean exhaled, trying to put the feeling into words, feeling overwhelmed again by the strength of his feelings for the redhead.

"Yeah? What's that?"

Jean met Rin's warm cognac eyes, and all of the feelings of being overwhelmed slowly evened out, like water seeping down the drain. The redhead was able to steady his emotions with just one look.

"I-I want you to know . . . that one event, that one thing doesn't define who you are as a person. You went through something almost two years ago and it made you doubt yourself for a while, and I understand why it would have. But it doesn't make you any less smart or passionate about what you love. You're still a wonderful son and brother and friend. And teammate. You're still and always will be a genuinely good person. And . . . you are _not_ a coward. No way, never will be. You have a quiet strength all your own. You _endure_. I could never do that. I don't have that kind of patience for myself or for other people. Everything you told me just now, it makes me see your strength shine through stronger than ever."

Rin's mouth opened as if to say something, and then he blinked a few times. There was a heavy silence for a few beats as the redhead got control over his emotions.

"Jean . . . I--um. You are so . . " He paused, looking down for a moment. When he looked up, he had a soft smile on his face, and his beauty clawed at Jean's heart, gaining more purchase. "Thank you. It, it really means a lot. More than I can say." Rin slowly moved into a kneeling position, and gently put his free hand on Jean's chest. The brunet watched with wide eyes as the redhead looked up at him tentatively, as if he were a little shy. "So . . . what do you think now?"

Jean could only stare at Rin, the slight smile that curved his naturally pink hued lips. At the bashfulness that colored his cheeks a light red. The brunet wondered vaguely if Rin had a predisposition to blush easier due to his complexion and hair color or if it was unrelated. Kobicha eyes took in the silky dark red strands that fell across Rin's forehead, somewhat obscuring his beautiful cognac eyes. Jean pushed the offending hair away from the redhead's face, taking in the hopeful expression.

"Jean?" _Had Rin said something??_

"Yeah?"

"What do you think? About . . .about what you asked earlier?"

Jean had to think for a moment about what Rin was referencing. Because Rin's touch was warm through his sweater, the pressure of it soothing and affectionate.  And then he remembered.  He had asked Rin to be his boyfriend.   "I still want to be with you. Still want you to be my boyfriend. Like I said, if anything, what you've told me has only made me care about you more than I did before." He rested his free hand on top of the one Rin had on his chest, linking their fingers. "What about you?"

Rin beamed at him, his smile wide and happy now. "Yes. Yes, I want you to be my boyfriend, too." He climbed slowly into Jean's lap, and their kiss was sweet, cherishing the intimacy they had gained upon learning more about each other.

 

* * *

 

Jean felt tortured. Torture of the best kind. Because it was Rin's doing, and the redhead had no idea he was doing it.

"What's wrong?" Rin asked him after school one day, a week and a few days since they had made their relationship official. The early October afternoon was a little crisp as they walked to Jean's car. Rin had practice that day, but Jean didn't, and the redhead had come to say a quick and private goodbye.

"Eh?" Jean said, his attention coming into focus.

"You looked . . .angry . . . during Physics today. And you were kind of quiet." Rin squeezed his hand. They had reached Jean's car.

"Oh." Jean's eyes widened. His face just sometimes looked like that. He hadn't known he was handling his _problem_ so poorly. "I was just focused."

Rin crossed his arms across his chest, looking at him skeptically. "Uh huh. Out with it." The brunet couldn't help but just look at him for a few seconds, amazed again by his easy grace, his strong but gentle beauty. He tried--and failed--not to check him out, feeling the familiar heat once again spread across his cheeks. And then seep to the rest of his body.

Jean quickly closed the distance between the two of them, wrapping an arm loosely around Rin's waist. "It's _you_." He hissed. "You wear these tight jeans to school and it's driving me crazy. And you're--you're so goddamn hot."

The brunet pulled back to see a blush on Rin's creamy skin, and then he bit his lip. But then some sort of wickedness seemed to take over the redhead, and he grinned widely.

"So you're saying you like what you see then?" he asked mischievously, suggestively. And with one last look over his shoulder and a wink, Rin headed back towards the school. Jean watched him the entire way. Yeah, he liked what he saw.

 

* * *

 

The very next day, Jean pulled up to Rin's house before school. The redhead and his sister apparently shared a car, but Jean figured he could just give him a ride to school each morning and after school when their practice days coincided, so as to make sharing the car easier between the siblings. His house really wasn't too much out of the way, and the way he saw it, the more time he got to spend with the redhead, the better. So for the past week and a half, he had picked up Rin each morning. He sent a text to his boyfriend, letting him know he was there.

He didn't have to wait long. He saw movement from the front of the house, and then Jean audibly groaned, the back of his head hitting the headrest in exasperation. _He really is trying to kill me, isn't he?_ Rin had on a black, light-weight hoodie, unzipped, over a dark gray sleeveless shirt. Like a lot of the redhead's clothing, it fit him tight across the abdomen, and Jean could see the outline of every single muscle. The brunet recalled what it felt like to feel that part of Rin under the palm of his hand, how the smooth muscle was defined in such a way that he felt every hard ridge of it. Jean swallowed.

Rin walked with his usual fluid grace, lower body encased in tight black jeans. The brunet felt himself wondering wildly what his legs would look like, bare of any clothing, muscular legs flexing. His kobicha eyes traveled back upward, coming to rest on the redhead's face. Rin had his hair pulled back in an elastic band at the base of his neck, and some red strands had already fallen forward, framing his beautiful face in a very delicate and attractive way. Jean turned his head determinedly away from the mesmerizing sight, fixing his stare on a house on the opposite side of the street. He needed to get himself under control, for it would not do to greet Rin with a _problem_ growing apparent in his pants.

"Hey," Rin greeted him breezily as he got in the car, warm eyes on Jean, a happy smile on his lips.

"Hey." Jean touched his lips briefly to Rin's, his thoughts now a buoyant swirl of emotion. He couldn't help but return the smile, for the redhead brought it out in him. But he knew he could never manage Rin's effortless and radiant expression--it was something that came naturally to the swimmer. The warm, passionate, core of his being was something that Jean had deeply admired about Rin from day one. Even as he had tried to work through those emerging feelings during that first day of school more than a month ago now.

They were joined by Marco in the school's parking lot, making their way into the building. The weather around them had undergone a subtle shift lately, and students were now dressing in warmer attire. Coats, hoodies, and boots were making their appearance everywhere. Jean took in a deep breath, smelling the burning scent of wood stoves on a crisp fall morning. The foliage had even begun its annual change in color. There were now leaves of deep crimson, bright orange, and sunny yellow on the trees surrounding their school and throughout the town.

It was Jean's favorite time of year. It meant soccer season to him, the sport he lived and breathed. They had been playing two games a week lately, and were now 5-0, with games planned for tomorrow night and Friday as well. They had a strong team this year, and it looked like they would have no problems making the playoffs, led by the fierce offensive skills of Eren and Conny, and backed up by the support of Thomas and Jean. Not to mention the best goalkeeper around (and Jean didn't consider himself biased _at all_ ) in Marco. But Coach Ackerman wasn't letting them think that far in advance, instead having them consider each opponent as they faced them, taking nobody for granted.

Ahead of them in the hall, Annie and Bert were walking closely together, the giant curving a long arm across the much smaller blonde's shoulders. They were walking way too slow, and other students made their way around them, annoyed with the lack of speed of their stride. Jean noticed that Marco had a non-reaction at seeing them, continuing to talk to Rin about some obscure marine life documentary that somehow both of them had watched and liked. And then they moved on to talk about a nearby aquarium that featured some dophins or penguins that had been featured on the show . . . something like that. It made the brunet happy, seeing that his friend appeared to be over his feelings for Annie.

Throughout the school day, Jean found it extremely hard to concentrate. It didn't help that he was able to smell Rin's usual enticing scent of essential oils that he wore on his body. There was a period of silent reading in AP American Lit, and Jean was very distracted. He kept trying to read Faulkner's _As I Lay Dying_ because he found the grotesque nature of it intriguing. He really, really did. But now he found himself idly delving in and out of sweet daydreams, the sole occupant of which was Rin. At one point, the redhead got up from his desk to ask Mr. Ackerman a question, and he must have seen the stupidly happy expression on Jean's face. For he paused for a second, eyes wide, then continued to walk over to their teacher's desk.

In the hallway outside of Rin's second class, he murmured to Jean, "Maybe I'll have to move desks if you can't concentrate on your assignments." Jean's mouth opened to protest, but then he saw the teasing glint in the redhead's eyes. Had he always been this secretly devious? Or was this a new development? The brunet growled, then leaned in to kiss his boyfriend, hoping that in doing so, it would ease some of this . . . raw want . . . that seemed to surround him for the past week or so. The feeling was so intense, and it was wrapped up in his finer feelings for Rin, so that he could not seem to separate them.

Rin eventually walked into the class, and Eren was a few steps behind. A knowing smirk was on Jaeger's face as he walked by Jean, and the brunet fixed an unimpressed glare on his face. This one was especially reserved for Eren. The kid really was an annoying brat. He had no idea why he seemed to be Coach Ackerman's favorite, sometimes side-stepping out of being disciplined, flashing a smile and throwing jokes out left and right. Whatever. Eren was an idiot.

The held back tension in his body seemed to grow throughout the rest of the school day. It was very new for Jean, never having really been so into someone before. It was a mixture of feelings. One one hand, it was a sweet, heady, rush to see Rin, and his heart sped up at the sight of him, smiling and beautiful and perfect. During their Physics lab, in between calculations, Rin had Mikasa and Marco laughing about how he had mistakenly seasoned his eggs one day with what looked like his homemade version of "Emeril's Essence" but had turned out to be cinnamon sugar instead. Jean merely tuned into the story, his head propped up on an elbow, a soft and fond smile on his face. There was just something about the way Rin told a story, so uninhibited and charismatic that had Jean fascinated.

And how Rin seemed to get along with everyone. Students that Jean had never really spent time talking to, even though he had known them for years. Girls and guys alike talked to him during class, leaning over the row to ask his opinion on this or that. He had given out a recipe for curried quinoa to Mina Carolina, and in turn, she handed him a sealed envelope.

"Our family's secret pasta sauce recipe. Only for your eyes," she said quietly, looking around, as if some ninja were at that moment going to sneak in the room and snatch the envelope away from her. Rin assured Mina he would keep it to himself, and Jean could only look at him in wonder. The redhead even chatted easily with Eren as they made their way over to their table at lunch. People flocked to him, that was easy to see. And he found himself wondering, _What does this wonderful vision possibly see in me?_

Small events like this had, of course, been happening since the first day of school. But now Jean was able to see more of it, instead of just solely focusing on what Rin made him feel. And it was turning his insides into a tender mess of feelings. He found himself smiling more often, a scowl only crossing his features when annoyed and his usual resting bitch face expression scarcely being seen. He wasn't sure yet if he could vocalize the feeling to Rin, because the thought of doing so had him feeling twenty different kinds of anxious. But. With his strategic way of thinking, his scientific way of analyzing data and coming to decisions, he was certain he was in love with the redhead.

Sure, he had only been officially dating him for just over a week. Yeah, he had only known him for about a month. But none of that mattered to Jean. There wasn't a set time for this kind of thing, right? Everyone was different. And at the end of the day, if anything, he knew himself. He had poked and prodded at his own feelings for quite a while now, giving them due consideration. And then he just decided to let himself feel.

And so he found himself like a coiled spring during soccer practice. It was probably not a good time to let himself go.

While he ran across the field in drills, he found himself thinking of Rin's soft red hair, his warm, cognac eyes. His sweet lips, his hot breath. He felt his hands clench in on themselves at the thought of his palms on strong thighs. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt a sudden burst of pain at his right temple, and then saw a soccer ball roll away.

A loud guffaw revealed it to be Eren's doing.

"WHOOPS! Sorry, Kirstein!" And then more laughing. "That one . . . got away from me!"

Jean's eyes narrowed, and he turned his body, seeing Eren some thirty or so feet from him, hands on knees, laughing like there was no tomorrow. He was so fucking dead.

"Kirstein! Over here, now!" It was Coach Ackerman.

Thomas Wagner and Marco were already gathered near their coach, and they spent some time going over some formations. Their next opponent, Trost, was known for their sudden offensive plays, their strikers and midfielders often streaking quickly down the field in a sudden and unexpected rush. Coach Ackerman outlined his plans with his two midfielders, should they try this tactic on Shiganshina. He also went over some defensive formations with Marco, showing him diagrams of where they would be playing and what part of the net would be most advantageous for him to watch out for. Their defensive line still remained the weakest part of their team, so it was necessary for their coach to prepare Marco as best as he could for anything that might come his way.

Jean took it all in, riled up from his encounter with Eren. Practice was over after that, and the brunet could still feel himself worked up, the tension thrumming through his limbs. His thoughts returned to Rin. The brunet showered quickly, one of the first to be finished getting ready. He was in the parking lot when he called Rin.

"Oh hey Jean! How was practice?"

"Rin."

"--yeah?"

"I need to see you. Now." Jean threw his bag in the backseat of his car, and then got behind the wheel of his car.

"Oh, okay. Why don't you come over? I'm just finishing prep for dinner. Everything . . . okay?" Rin sounded concerned on the other end.

"Yes." Jean's words were all in the same clipped tone. He couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Um. . . alright. I'll see you soon, then."

 

* * *

 

Rin answered the door, an uncertain smile on his face, his eyes searching Jean's. He stepped aside, letting Jean in. The brunet took in the sleeveless shirt he was still wearing, his strong shoulders and arms, bare and on display. The distant strains of a guitar melody came from the kitchen. The song was familiar, but Jean was too distracted to place it.

"Jean, you sounded really strained on the phone. Did something happen?" He shut the door, coming to stand close to the brunet. At Jean's momentary silence, he raised a palm, gliding it gently across one of the brunet's shoulders, working down to his forearm. The gesture was certainly intended to soothe what Rin must've thought was Jean's turbulent emotions, but it exacerabated them even more. It was sweet madness.

Jean breathed out loudly, and then grasped onto one of Rin's hands. "Can we go see your room?" He hadn't yet been in that part of the house.

"Yeah, sure," Rin said, a slight frown marring his features. He led the way upstairs, walking toward the last door on the right. The redhead flicked on a light as he entered, shutting the door slowly behind Jean. He paused before turning around, as if trying to work up the courage to say something. "Jean--"

Rin had barely turned around before Jean had separated all distance from them, the brunet's breath huffing out in hot puffs of air on the redhead's neck. His hands went immediately to Rin's hips, squeezing them a little ungently, a hint of the tension he had felt all day betraying itself in his behavior. He had abandoned all thoughts of analyzing the situation and just let himself  _feel_. Because with Rin, everything was right. There was no need to strategize. He could be himself down to the core of whoever Jean Kirstein was. He felt a surreal sort of realization that it was Rin who brought this feeling out in him.

"I have thought about you," he croaked out, "all day."

When he pulled back to look into Rin's eyes, he saw some of his own desperation mirrored there. The usual warmth but now mixed in with want. So maybe the redhead had felt some of the same tension for some time, too.

"Jean . . . " Rin said softly, but commanding. "Kiss me."

Jean did. His kiss was not the gentle, chaste kind of greeting of the morning. It was hungry. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he kissed Rin with wild abandon, feeling soft lips part against his, again and again. Jean's hands moved up to the sides of the swimmer's abdomen, settling near the middle of his ribcage. He felt the outline of the muscle through the shirt, once again realizing just how strong the redhead was. When the brunet met Rin's eager and responding tongue with a hard swipe, the sound of the redhead's soft moan pushed him into a higher gear.

The demanding edge with which they kissed each other had the redhead wrapping his arms around Jean's neck, pulling him tight against his chest, closing the gap between the two of them again. And then the brunet wanted more. He trailed his hands down, working his fingers underneath the fabric of the shirt to touch Rin's smooth skin. The shirt rose up, gathering on his wrists, exposing the swimmer's abdomen. This was better. Ahhhh.

"Uhngh," Rin made a noise that was half moan, half exhalation at the feel of Jean's hands caressing his abdomen as they continued to kiss needily. "Jean . . ."

The brunet felt Rin move his legs slightly, thighs parting so that he could fit in even closer. Jean moved one of his own between the redhead's, feeling his arousal, knowing that Rin must feel his, too. He had never done this before, but he wasn't about to stop and think about it. He put some pressure onto Rin's erection, rubbing his leg on the redhead's crotch, knowing from the hum of approval that it felt good.

Jean stilll wanted more.

"Rin . . ." he murmured into the quiet of the room, "I know I said I wanted to wait for . . . sex. And I do." He lightly took the swimmer's chin into his fingers, kobicha eyes connecting to the clear warmth of Rin's. The redhead's lips were parted, a darker hue, swollen from the kind of kissing they had been doing. "But I want . . . to try something." Here Jean felt himself flush, but he was sure he was already red from being overheated and stimulated.

Rin looked steadily at him, enjoying the hard caress of one of Jean's hands on his chest underneath his shirt. He saw the brunet's eyes flicker there for a moment, as if he wanted to add the visual component of seeing his skin to this moment.

"What, um, what do you want to try?" Rin said, a hand working through the back of Jean's hair.

In answer, Jean moved a hand down to the waistband of Rin's black lounge pants, hooking his thumb inside and dangling his remaining fingers down and on the cottony fabric. He pressed them onto Rin's erection, and the swimmer's breath caught in his throat at the action. Jean felt the texture of coarse hair meet his thumb, and he bit the inside of his mouth at the level of intimacy they were now at.

In embarrassment at what he was about to say, the brunet hid his face in Rin's neck, away from his beautiful eyes. "With my mouth," he said quietly, directly into the swimmer's ear. Jean felt Rin's whole body tense up, a soft noise of surprise leave his mouth. _Sweet Jesus, the noises he makes . . ._

But there was no hesitation in Rin speaking. "You--you want to do that?"

"Yes. Very much so." Jean pulled back to look at Rin's face. Jean could see that the redhead's pupils were dilated, his cognac eyes showing a wide circle of dark in the middle.

Rin swallowed noticeably and then nodded. "Okay," he whispered, his hand fisting in Jean's hair.

"Okay," Jean repeated back at him. He leaned in, joining their lips again in a kiss. He moved his hips slowly against Rin's, holding him in place with his hands firm on the swimmer's hips. When he felt the redhead's body responding eagerly to his once again, all shyness dissipated, Jean knelt in front of him.

His breath coming quickly with want, Jean looked up at Rin to see the swimmer looking back at him. Most of his hair was still pulled back with an elastic band, but the stubborn strands in the front fell in his face, framing it elegantly. Jean studied his expression, taking in the desire that was obvious on his face. And something else that had Rin looking so fixedly at him, the reason he was okay with Jean doing this in the first place. Trust.

Now a little nervous himself, Jean pulled on the drawstring of the redhead's lounge pants, pulling them down along with his underwear all in one go. All he could do for a moment was marvel at Rin's perfect body, his fully erect cock. His eyes trailed up a little, seeing that the redhead's tight sleeveless shirt still clung to his upper body, his bare abdomen still his to see and touch. Jean unconsciously wet his lips, feeling the strain of his own erection in his pants.

Raising himself up some on his knees, but also widening his kneeling stance, Jean was able to find the perfect height needed that was also comfortable on his lower body. He felt a little tense again, not wanting to do this wrong, not wanting it to be bad for Rin, quite a few anxious thoughts flying through his mind.

"Jean . . . you don't have to--"

"I _want_ to." And then his hand was on Rin's cock, stroking him into a slow rhythm. Rin closed his eyes, little sighs of pleasure escaping from his mouth. He put the back of his wrist over his mouth to muffle his vocalizations, but Jean reached up and grabbed at his arm, holding onto his fingers briefly.

He wanted to hear it.

Jean gave Rin a few more strokes, giving the hard cock a firmer grip. He took a deep breath. He was still somewhat anxious about doing this, used to analzying everything so that it would be as close to perfect as it could be. But for this, he had no reference level, no source of information to fall back on. So he would go with his instinct, his feelings at the moment.

His first mistake was trying to fit Rin's entire cock in his mouth. The redhead made a small groan of pleasure, and that alone stopped Jean from gagging at the foreign intrusion deep in his throat. As it was, his eyes still watered just a bit, and he moved his mouth off of it, trying another approach. What would make Rin feel good?

Closing his eyes, Jean touched his lips gently to the slit, swiping his tongue slowly across the opening. Rin made a low moan, and the brunet could hear his back moving against the wall, his body tense with this new pleasure. Jean moved on to suck at the head slowly for a bit, taking in a good amount of Rin's flush cock before bobbing his head back, repeating the motion.

" _Ah god, Jean . . ."_ Rin murmured, fingertips grazing lightly against the wall before curling into his palms.

Feeling more daring, and supremely turned on, Jean slid a hand up Rin's naked thigh. He worked his fingers into the defined muscle, and he could have sworn he felt the swimmer tremble under the kneading of his digits. The taste of a bitter saltiness was now leaking into his mouth, and Jean swallowed it down. With his other hand on the base of Rin's cock, Jean took in more of him, lips tightening up and sucking as he made his way back down. Every few passes or so, he would pause to lick a wide swath along the length of Rin's cock, and now there was no imagining it, there was definitely a fine tremor from Rin's body.

The redhead started to make noises almost as if he was crying out quietly in pain, except it sounded too much like an uninhibited noise of pleasure. His hips began to rotate slightly into Jean's mouth, unable to hold back, though he had tried.

"Uhhnn, Jean...." Rin moaned softly, his fingers now raking through Jean's hair.

The sound of his boyfriend moaning and calling out his name tipped Jean over the edge, and he started to palm himself over his jeans. Though they weren't nearly as tight as those that Rin often wore, they were nowhere near loose enough for him to reach in and touch himself. It didn't matter, though. Rin was his focus, his priority. He began to work on the swimmer's cock in earnest now, taking more of it in, his eyes watering from the exertion. His saliva was everywhere, making it all a little slippery, but Rin didn't seem to notice or care. His hand had tightened in Jean's hair, though not roughly. The brunet palm-stroked himself over his jeans, heat pooling in his groin, his whole body sweaty.

"Jean--I'm about--you should move--" Rin said suddenly, weakly, his hips out of sync, without a pace, a staccato.

Jean didn't move, and Rin came into his mouth, the warm liquid coating the inside. A low and guttural wail escaped from the redhead's mouth, and then Jean, too, was climaxing from the mere sound of Rin's pleasure. He forced himself to swallow a couple of times, and then moved his head back slowly, extremely aware of the liquid heat in his pants.

Rin pulled up his pants, and then he was on the floor with Jean, in his arms. They were silent for a moment or two, and then Rin was speaking into his neck, his speech muffled, perhaps hiding as well.

"I want to--can I, can I touch you?" A hand softly touched the other side of Jean's neck, and the brunet knew that Rin could feel the heat of his skin, the pulse racing under the surface.

"You are touching me," Jean said with an amused smile, holding Rin more securely in his arms.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Rin said softly, placing a soft kiss on his neck.

"And that's not why I did--that. I just wanted to, hmmm, please you."

"I want to please you, too."

Jean was definitely embarrassed. "Well--ummm--there's no need." He knew he couldn't possibly get any redder. "I, um, well, I--right when you, you know, then I did too." He could feel Rin smile into his neck.

"Really?" Said so softly and intimately.

"Really. Um--can I use your bathroom?"

Rin showed him to the bathroom, and Jean took a few minutes to himself. When he emerged, the swimmer was waiting for him on the landing. "My mom was calling for dinner. She said you're more than welcome to stay and join us. Would you like to?" He had his hands in the pockets of his lounge pants, a sign that Jean had learned to recognize as shyness in Rin.

"Yes, I would." Jean strolled over to him, eyes on Rin's face for a moment, gauging his mood. "Everything okay?"

They were alone, and the strains of music were still traveling upstairs from the kitchen.

"Yes," Rin said quietly, cognac eyes not quite meeting kobicha. "I just--I've never done that before, and . . ." he let out a long breath. "I hope it didn't--I didn't--gross you out."

Jean looked at him incredulously for a moment. "Rin." The redhead was biting at his lip, still looking off to some point to the brunet's side. "Hey." Jean touched a palm gently to Rin's cheek, and at the touch, the redhead's eyes flickered to meet the brunet's. "What we just did--hmm. How can I say this? It was incredible. . . I loved it. I feel so close to you."

Rin's face cleared, and a soft smile emerged on his face, believing in Jean's words. There was the trust again. "I thought it was incredible, too," he said, quietly.

"RIN! ARE YOU AND JEAN COMING DOWN TO DINNER OR WHAT?"

Jean laughed at Gou's screech from the base of the stairs, though he couldn't yet see her. He and Rin made their way down to the kitchen, and Jean didn't even worry at the possibility that he might be eating some kind of vegan cuisine that would be completely foreign to him. Because. Rin. All of his tension was gone, and in place of it, it was almost as if golden sparkles surrounded his vision, and only Rin was a clear path. Gou was talking to him as they sat at the table, and Jean was only partially aware of his response. He couldn't stop smiling.

Mrs. Matsuoka, along with Gou and Rin, had prepared vegan burrito bowls. The redhead, however, had prepared some chicken on the side beforehand to add to his own dinner, which he shared with Jean. Everything was seasoned perfectly, and Jean found himself pleasantly surprised. The dish would have been delicious even without the chicken.

"So, Jean," Gou said conversationally, between bites. "Are you going to be at the swimming meet this weekend?"

"Yup," Jean peeked at Rin, who looked excited at the mention of swimming meet. The swimmer had already asked him about it a few days ago. It would take place that Saturday at Rose Maria High School. "I'll be there, in the stands. I was thinking of bringing my friend Marco with me, too."

"Ohhhh, does he have nice muscles? Your friend? Is he hot?" Jean spluttered around his water as Mrs. Matsuoka and Rin laughed.

"Gou has had a thing for muscles lately," Mrs. Matsuoka explained. "Though it's hardly the feature in a companion she should be focusing on." She narrowed her eyes at her daughter, though Jean could see the teasing glint in her eyes, and a second later she smiled.

Gou stuck her tongue out at her mother before turning back to Jean. "Well?" she pressed.

"Uh--he plays soccer, so he runs a lot. I guess you could say he's a little more muscular than I am?" Jean shrugged.

"You're no help!" Gou groused.

After dinner, Jean tried to help wash dishes, but Rin shooed him away. "I've got it. Besides, it's a school night. Don't you have some reading to catch up on?" And he raised an eyebrow at him.

Oh, that's right. He did. "Fine," Jean gave in with a growl. "But next time, I help." Rin nodded and then walked him to the front door, after Jean said good-bye to Gou and Mrs. Matsuoka.

The radio was back on as Mrs. Matsuoka worked on something in the kitchen, listening as her daughter talked to her animatedly about something from school. Rin turned to Jean then, hands in pockets again.

"I'm glad you came by," he said softly, his cheeks pink.

"I am, too."  Jean pulled gently on Rin's wrists.

They kissed then, and it had an echo of their earlier kissing in it. Though not as intense, it was every bit as intimate. When they parted, Jean rested his forehead on Rin's.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Jean?"

"Yeah?"

Rin pulled back a little, linking his fingers through Jean's. "I was worried today, right when you got here. I was thinking somehow you had changed your mind about me, after all."

Jean was silent for a moment, biting down on the skin on the inside of his mouth. This, he thought, surely was the after effects of his dealings with the guy from his old school. It made him so angry on the inside that it continued to affect Rin in this way, his insecurity sometimes showing. But he would be there for him. He would do everything in his power to show him he would always want to be with him.

"Nothing will ever make me change my mind about wanting to be with you," Jean finally said emphatically. "It might be hard for you to see it now, but I'm not going anywhere."

And then Rin was looking at him again with that expression that said everything that he couldn't. The trust.

"Okay," Rin said after a moment, moved by Jean's words. They kissed once more, and then the brunet took off for home. He called Marco as he turned off his car.

"What's up, Jean? I'm trying to do homework." Jean heard the distinctive noises of gun fire and explosions.

"You liar, you're playing Playstation," Jean said indignantly.

Marco huffed a laugh. "Yeah, yeah. GREAT. I just died. So what do you want?"

"What are you doing Saturday afternoon?"

"Saturday?" Jean gave his best friend a couple seconds to think about it. "I don't know-"

"Great, you're coming with me to see a swim meet."

"A swim meet? What?"

"Yup. No choice in the matter. Shiganshina and some other schools will be there. Rin's friends from Iwatobi, too. They came to our game, it's only fair if we go and watch them."

Marco conceded the point. "Yeah, okay. I'll go. You're picking me up, though."

"Sure thing. I'm the better driver, anyways."

"Jean, you do remember when you hit that deer last fall, right?"

"THAT DEER HIT ME!!"

"Now who's the liar? I was in the passenger seat, remember?"

There was just no winning when it came to arguing with Marco Bott.  The last thing Jean remembered thinking about, right before he fell asleep, is that he still had no idea what Rin's room looked like.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, it's been so long since I updated this! I'm sorry. Sometimes I get a hankering to write something else and I latch onto that feeling. 
> 
> Anyways, I've updated this to be 12 chapters! I've mapped out the rest of the story (I'm laughing at myself for ever thinking this would run 3 or 4 chapters). This chapter was supposed to be three separate segments . . . but I keep writing. So those events will be featured in the next chapter. Which won't take as long to post, I promise.
> 
> Please stick around for future updates!

Saturday afternoon found Jean and Marco at Shiganshina High, observing the area schools swim meet.  It seemed as if five local high schools were participating, among them Shiganshina and Iwatobi.  The bleachers in the pool area had been pulled out to accommodate the number of spectators, significantly less than the amount of people who attended football or soccer games.  Though it seemed as if everyone who did attend was deeply invested in the outcome.

Jean and Marco were perched halfway up the bleachers, surrounded by other students and parents of the swimmers.  They had been able to find their way to the event rather easily despite not being familiar with Rose Maria High School, other than that they usually beat them at soccer games.  Jean had long since shrugged out of his hoodie due to the warmth of the swimming pool area, Marco following suit a couple minutes after.  The two co-captains had been chatting about soccer, school and the like when suddently Marco's attention seemed caught.  

"Yeah . . . I think so, too," he said distantly, gazing at something off to Jean's left.  Curious, Jean turned his head, trying to figure out what had caught his friend's attention.  There were about a dozen or so people headed to the bleachers area, looking like coaches or managers.  To his surprise, Gou Matusoka was one of them.  She was wearing a blue and white light jacket with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her red hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Oh, hey, it's Gou!"  Jean casually waved in her direction, and it seemed to catch her attention.  Her face lit up in recognition, her red hair bouncing as she waved back at Jean.  She seemed to say something to the woman walking with her, and then she was walking quickly toward them, beginning to easily climb the bleachers with purpose.

"You know her?" Marco asked slowly and quietly, his eyes on Gou as she got closer to them.  His brown eyes were wide.

"Yeah.  She's Rin's sister," Jean said with a sideways glance at his friend.  Marco had gone silent, cheeks reddening.  He smirked at seeing his friend in this condition,  and he thought that maybe some payback was due, considering the amount of teasing Marco had put him through with Rin.  And Jean knew that he wouldn't be as easygoing about it as his best friend. 

"Jean!"  Gou had finally made it to the row below them, sitting down so that she was facing them.  "I'm so glad that you came.  Rin will be very excited to see you here.  So will the Iwatobi boys."

"I'm looking forward to seeing all of the races.  Maybe you can help us out with how this whole event goes, what races are coming up and all that."  Jean gestured to Marco beside him.  "Gou, this is my best friend that I told you about, Marco Bott.  Marco, this is Gou Matsuoka."

"Nice to meet you!" Marco said hastily, offering up his hand.  Gou took it, shaking it politely.  For some reason, her own cheeks had a slight pink hue to them.  That made Jean smirk, too.  To Gou's credit, her eyes didn't even stray toward Marco's biceps.

"It's nice to meet you, too."  Gou smiled prettily at Marco, and he seemed to melt.  She then focused on Jean again, though her eyes flickered every now and then back to Marco.  "And yeah, sure, I'd love to be your teacher for the day!"  She stood up and then took a seat between the two friends enthusiastically.  "Ok, so the first races are usually the preliminary heats.  Then comes the finals for each race of that particular swimming stroke . . ."

Gou continued to warble on, voice as sweet as honey as she explained how the event would go down.  Jean hadn't even batted an eye when she had decided to seat herself between him and Marco.  He had become accustomed to the younger Matsuoka saying and doing whatever was foremost on her mind.  Jean leaned slightly forward in his bleacher seat, seeing that Marco was totally enamored with each word that Gou was saying.  Oh, this was going to be fun.

The woman that had been walking with Gou finally made her way up the stairs and near where they were seated, and Gou introduced her to both Jean and Marco.

"Ms. Amakata, this is Jean and Marco.  They go to Shiganshina.  Jean and Marco, this is Ms. Amakata.  She's the swim team's faculty advisor."

They exchanged pleasantries with the teacher for a few minutes, and then she finally settled down in a seat a couple rows below them.  Gou continued to chat familiarly with both boys about the swimming event, occasionally patting Jean on the shoulder to emphasize a point.  Such as when Rin would be swimming, and which events he would be participating in.  Jean was silent for a moment, fully realizing he knew next to nothing about swimming.  And that it was important to him to start learning.  This was a big part of Rin's life, therefore he needed to ask more questions, come to more swim meets.  He wanted to do everything he could to show Rin that he had his support. 

In the meantime, Gou was continuing to happily educate them, providing a brief overview of what they could expect throughout the afternoon.  They had informed her that they knew next to nothing about swimming, and she had gladly given them the finer points of each swimming stroke, the length of each race, etc.  Soon enough, the first prelim was announced, the 100m backstroke.  

"Ok, so," Gou said, her own cognac eyes serious.  "This is Makoto's specialty.  They have to swim the length of the pool and back. "  Jean nodded in understanding.   _Simple enough_ , he thought, brown eyes watching as each of the swimmers jumped lightly into the pool.  Gou turned to Marco, pointing out Makoto in the pool.  She laid a hand on his shoulder, and Jean was amused to see that his friend stiffened under her touch.  Oh boy, he was gaining more ammunition.  "See?  There he is, in the fourth lane." 

The race began, and to Jean's surprise, he found himself excited for the event.  People in the crowd began to cheer for their respective friend, or son, or classmate.  Beside him, Gou had cupped her hands around her mouth, and was yelling, "Go go go Makoto!" He watched as the swimmers cut wide arcs through the water, their arms windmilling behind their head and shoulders shifting with each rotation.  After the turn, Makoto was in the lead.  Jean watched somewhat apprehensively, simultaneously coming to appreciate the way that swimming was a fast and competitive sport, and also how it left no margin for error.  He noticed how some of the other swimmers seemed to have faster strokes than Makoto, but how his friend had the advantage of a more developed musculature and longer arms.  Jean didn't need to look at the scoreboard's display to know that he had won.   

Gou stood, excited for her teammate.  "Yay! Makoto!" she cheered loudly.  Makoto, upon hearing her cheer, turned to the spectators and acknowledged her with a wave and big smile as he made his way back into the locker rooms.  Gou gave high fives to Jean and Marco, and then stepped down two rows to her teacher's side to discuss the results and next races.  Jean cast a sideways glance at his friend, not surprised to see Marco gazing at Gou, his freckles ever prominent over reddened cheeks.  There was a furrow in his brow, as if he had been hit over the head and was just now gaining back his senses.

"So that's Gou," Jean said slyly, elbowing his best friend.  "She's very energetic, as you can see--"

"She's great," Marco blurted out, but then his eyes widened and he turned to look at Jean in embarrassment.  "I mean, she's . . . nice.  Yeah."

"Ok, man."  Jean chuckled.  "I'll be right back, gonna go find a bathroom before the next race."

Marco hmmed at him as he got up, fiddling with his phone.  But Jean wasn't blind to the surreptitious glances that his best friend was casting in Gou's direction.  "Ya know Marco," Jean began dryly, "I wonder what Rin is going to think of you ogling his sister."

The freckled teen snapped his head to look at Jean.  "I am _not_ ogling her, Jean!" he insisted in a whisper-shout.  

Jean cackled the entire way down the bleachers.  This was too much fun.  He was returning to the pool area after using the bathroom, when he heard his name called. 

"Hey!  Jean!  What are you doing here?"  Jean looked over to his right, and then groaned silently.  Seijuro Mikoshiba was leaning against the bleachers a few feet away from him, clad in black warm-up pants and a thin jacket, zipped up most of the way. 

"I'm here with Marco.  Rin invited us to see the swim meet."

Seijuro nodded his head and grinned.  "Ah, that's right.  I _did_ see you two, once or twice maybe, eating each other's faces after school."

Jean frowned at the carroty-haired swim captain.  "You're gross.  See ya later."  He moved to make his way to the bleachers, but Seijuro stopped him.  

"You can't walk in front right now.  Next prelim is about to start.  So you'll have to wait it out here, with me."  Seijuro grinned again.  Jean saw that he was right, and he huffed a breath out in exasperation.  The next set of swimmers had just been announced, and they jumped lightly into the pool.   

Seijuro straightened up then, focused on the pool.  "My brother's swimming in this heat.  Momotarou.  He's there in lane one."  Jean found lane one, but couldn't really recognize the kid.   

"He's a sophomore this year," Seijuro explained.  "You probably don't know him." 

The race began, and Jean again found himself highly interested in it.  This time, he noticed things he hadn't before.  Such as the way each swimmer leapt backwards into the water at the onset of the race, or how some stayed underwater slightly longer than those next to them.  He noticed that Seijuro's brother seemed to be in third or fourth place during the first length of the race, but with the turn, he head crept up to second.

"YEAH MOMO! GO!" Seijuro yelled beside Jean, eyes focused on the race.  Momotarou was moving closer and closer to being in first place, but just missed it at the end.  Jean saw a proud look on the elder Mikoshiba's face as the swimmers in the pool looked at the results.  "He's strong with his kick, his stamina," Seijuro explained, leaning in towards Jean conversationally.  "When he's a senior, I'm sure he'll set new records."

"He seems really good already," Jean commented truthfully.  Seijuro beamed with pride at the voiced observation.  

"Jean?"  

Rin and Nitori Aiichiro were standing in front of them, looking as if they had come from the bleachers area.  Jean saw the confused expression on the redhead's face as he looked first at him and then at Seijuro, his features slowly working into a frown.  Nitori, on the other hand, was hovering a little behind Rin with a grimace on his face.  

 _That little gremlin_ , Jean thought.  He opened his mouth to greet Rin, but Seijuro beat him to it.

"Oh, Matsuoka, there you are," he said easily.  "Still warmed up?  And you, Aiichiro?"

"Yeah," Rin said quietly, cognac eyes now heated.  Behind him, Nitori nodded. 

"Great."  Seijuro stretched slowly, his upper body pivoting in Jean's direction.  "I'm up in the second prelim for butterfly.  You gonna watch me?"  And with a smirk, the swim captain walked away, meeting his brother just as he was making his way into the locker room.  Nitori, after a quick glance at Rin, walked in the same direction as Seijuro. 

Jean closed the distance between himself and Rin, but made sure to leave a foot or two of space between them.  He itched to touch his boyfriend, but closed his hands into fists instead.  It probably wouldn't be very polite of him to latch onto Rin just then, kissing him the way he wanted to with the very real presence of an audience around. 

"You okay?" Jean asked quietly, taking note of the way that Rin held his expression in tightly, as if reluctant to reveal how he truly felt.

Rin didn't answer the question, instead choosing to look sideways at the underside of the bleachers.  "Nitori and I came out to watch Momo's race.  We found Gou and Marco--he said you had just left." 

"Yeah," Jean slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  "I had to use the bathroom, and then got stuck talking to Mikoshiba."

"Oh."  Rin was still looking off to the side, sounding distant.  His dark red hair was falling in front of his face, so Jean couldn't see his warm eyes, the way they tugged him into his gentle gravity. 

"What's wrong?"  Jean moved even closer now, one of his hands closing gently around Rin's wrist.  "Talk to me."

Rin finally looked up, eyes searching Jean's.  "I--it's nothing."  He sighed.  "I'm sorry . . . it doesn't even make sense in my head."

"What doesn't make sense?"  Jean moved his thumb over the skin of Rin's wrist. 

The swimmer was quiet for a moment, considering.  Finally, as if coming to a decision, he exhaled and his body relaxed.  "I saw you with Seijuro . . . and I don't know, I just felt scared.  I know he's interested in you . . .and then I felt so anxious all of a sudden." 

Jean knew there were a lot of people around, sitting in bleachers or choosing that moment in between races to make a beeline for the concession stand or the restrooms.  But he didn't care anymore about trying to be appropriate in front of people.  Once again, he found himself angry that this wonderful, beautiful, talented person doubted himself sometimes, was so quick to be insecure--all because of that complete _asshole_ from his past.  It made Jean enraged that someone could have hurt Rin like that, taking advantage of his naturally giving and passionate nature.  He raised his hand to Rin's cheek, fingers grazing lightly over his jawline.  Rin's expression seemed to clear somewhat at the touch. 

"I understand," Jean said quietly.  He knew Rin trusted him, but that it would take more time before the redhead could trust in himself.  Believe in himself more fully.  Jean planned to be there each day to see him through those obstacles.  "But Rin, you are all that I see.  And nobody is going to take me away from you."  He almost said it then, almost confessed his love.  But he wanted to do it in a moment where it was said freely, instead of as a reassurance.  He didn't want it to sound like he said it just to say it.  As a reaction to Rin's self-doubting moment. 

Rin nodded, a hint of a smile on his face.  "Okay.  And I know that, I do."  He **did** smile then.  Jean dropped his hand to loosely link his fingers through Rin's. 

"When's your race?" Jean asked curiously, watching as a new set of swimmers emerged from the locker room.  One was Nagisa, his normally impish face now focused.  

"I actually swim in the first prelim for the next set of races.  Butterfly stroke.  I should actually get going, I have a pre-race routine that I follow." 

"I can't wait to see you swim," Jean said in a low voice.   He brushed his lips against the corner of Rin's mouth and then moved back.  He was pleased to see Rin's face flood with color, no longer looking worried or anxious.  

"I'll see you afterwards?  If you have time, that is.  The meet goes on for a few hours--" 

"I'll be here," Jean said firmly.  Rin's face lit up brilliantly, and with one last smile, he walked away.

 

* * *

 

"What took you so long?" Gou asked curiously as Jean sat down lightly on the bleachers.  He had taken a moment to notice Marco's very earnest expression, the freckled male's eyes on their redheaded companion.  "My brother was looking for you."

"Oh I saw him," Jean reassured her.  Gou leaned into him then, sniffing.

"You're wearing it!" she crowed, eyes sparkling.  Jean looked at her for a moment in confusion.  "The essential oils mix I made for you."

"Oh right.  Yup."  The names of the participants were now being announced, and now Gou was considering Marco speculatively.

"What?" the freckled male asked, his cheeks coloring once more.

"Hmmm." Was all that Gou said, a finger now tapping at her chin, warm eyes narrowed as she continued to gaze at Marco.

The race then began, and Jean watched as the lithe Nagisa swam swiftly though the first length of the pool.  Beside him, Gou was again cheering loudly, and he was surprised to see that Marco had added his voice to the mix.  Both of them stood as Nagisa completed the first length of the pool, and Jean joined them.  Excitement was coursing through him now, and he realized how much of an enjoyable sport swimming was to watch as a spectator.  And he hadn't even seen Rin swim yet.

Nagisa had no trouble hanging onto the lead through the second length of the pool.  As soon as his palms hit the inside wall of the pool, he eagerly wrenched his goggles off of his head, checking out the results.  A jubilant smile lit up his face, knowing that he was moving on to the finals for his particular race.

"I had no idea swimming was this fun to watch," Marco commented as they all sat back down.  Gou hmmed in agreement.

"So, Marco . . . " Gou said after a moment, a lilt in her voice.  "I have some questions for you."  Jean held back a laugh behind one of his hands, knowing what was coming.  

"Uh . . . sure?"  Marco sounded uncertain of what to expect, but at the same time willingness was very much in his voice as he smiled at Gou.  

The next set of swimmers were entering the gym now for the second set of prelims for the breaststroke.  Jean noticed that Nitori was one of them, his body much smaller than those around him.  Though Jean wasn't exactly a fan of Nitori's, he still silently wished him well in the race, seeing as how he was Rin's friend and represented Shiganshina High School. 

"If you could have any superpower, what would it be?" Gou started off with, intently analyzing the expression on Marco's face.

"Well . . . um. . . " Marco considered the question.  He looked off into the distance, eyes sweeping over the pool and then gazing up at the ceiling.  "To fly.  I would want to fly."  He smiled serenely then, as if considering what it would be like to soar through the sky.

"Oh."  Gou was silent for a moment, and she blinked.  "I didn't expect that from you, to be honest."

Marco looked over at her.  "Really?  What did you expect?"

Gou hmmmed, one of her hands waving in front of her.  "I don't know exactly.  Maybe something like what Iron Man does or Wolverine.  I thought since you play soccer it would be something physical, attack related."

"Well I'm the goalie," Marco informed her.  "I defend.  And I support the defense when they need it."

Jean listened to them go back and forth, and he wondered if this was their way of subtly flirting with each other.  Gou continued to ask him more questions, like "What's your favorite color?" "Cerulean blue."  "Cerulean blue??"  

Nitori managed to place third in his preliminary race, and Gou informed them quickly that with his time he managed to make the finals for the breaststroke.  "And Rin's race is next--the butterfly," she said with a knowing smile before turning back to Marco and continuing her barrage of questions.  

Soon enough the next set of swimmers was coming out, and Jean recognized Rin immediately, even though his hair was covered with his swim cap.  Jen would recognize that walk anywhere, the way he moved with an almost fluid grace.  Not to mention his well-defined shoulder muscles, his shapely posterior. . . . he had the shape of Rin's body committed to memory.  Yet he found that he couldn't stop looking at him, heat flooding his face at the sight of a half-clothed Rin.  Jean went silent, eyes glued on his boyfriend.  There was just something intanglible about the link between them . . . Rin had this immediate intense effect on him where everything else just seemed to fade into the background.

"Ohhhh, Rei is racing in this heat, too," Gou mentioned, for the moment focusing on swimming instead of questioning Marco further.  "He's in lane 6, two down from Rin."  

Jean didn't care.  Well, he wished Rei well and all that, but with Rin around and competing, everything else took a backseat.  As they awaited the signal to climb onto the diving platform, various swimmers had decided to keep stretching or had their hands on their hips, eyes trained on the ground.  But Rin Matsuoka was standing still, his pose neither exactly tense nor relaxed.   His gaze was fixed forward to the other side of the pool, a picture of concentration.  Jean noticed the calm rise and fall of the redhead's chest.  He admired Rin's composure, knowing all too well what it felt like as an athlete when one waited for a competition between rivals to start.  The swimmers were now climbing onto the diving platform, awaiting the sounding bell to begin.  

But then the swimmer in lane one lost in the game of anticipation, diving in ahead of the bell.  With a loud splash, he dove awkwardly into the water, as if he already knew he had jumped the gun.

"Ohhh,"  Gou murmured.  "If he does that one more time, he's disqualified."  

The embarrassed swimmer climbed back on the platform for lane one, looking a little sheepish. None of the other swimmers paid him any mind though, still focused on the impending race.  So intent was Jean on watching Rin that he would have missed it had he been looking anywhere else, even in the lane next to the redhead.  But he still saw it--Rin turned his head a couple inches to the side, his cognac eyes fixed unwaveringly in Jean's direction.  

The brunet felt his cheeks now warm with affection.  He grinned back at his boyfriend, so confident in his abilities, not doubting for a moment that he would win his race.  And Jean wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he saw the curve of a confident smile grace Rin's face in response.  

"Take your mark," came the announcement then, and all of the swimmers focused again, waiting for the bell in nervous anticipation.   And then it went off. 

Jean Kirstein was instantly captivated by the athletic display in the pool.  It was the same swimming stroke that he had previously seen Rin swimming back a few weeks ago, when his boyfriend had been timed by Nitori.  Yet it all seemed so different now, knowing it was Rin down there racing in lane four.  Watching the arch of his of his head and shoulders, and how he whipped his arms over his head and back into the water.  How he could see the churn of the water behind Rin as he sped to the opposite side of the pool.

Butterfly was a very fast race.  It was very possible that Jean didn't breathe during the whole time Rin swam and turned underneath the water, first to turn back around for the final length of the race.  He had no idea how Rei was doing, only able to focus on his boyfriend's performance.  Distantly, he could hear Gou cheering, hopping up and down beside him.  The race was about to finish, and Jean wasn't sure he had even absorbed that fact.  Rin had a way of grabbing his focus, ensnaring his thoughts.  Finally, as the swimmers approached the halfway point of the second length of the pool, clarity began to seep back into Jean's mind.  He shook himself of the initial shock at seeing Rin swim competitively for the first time.  And then he began to cheer, joining his voices with Gou and Marco.

"RIN!!  GO!!  Do it!"  Jean yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth.  

Rin reached forward with his long, graceful swimmer's hands, touching the wall first.  Jean celebrated with a loud, "YEAH!" and pumped a fist in the air.  He watched as Rin took a quick look at the results board, seeing his name atop the other competitors.  And then he was pushing off his goggles, smiling widely in Jean's direction.  As if Rin wanted to share his preliminary victory with nobody else but his boyfriend.  They stared at each other across the room for a long moment, unspoken words and feelings being shared.  Rin's ecstatic smile slowly settled into one of soft happiness.  Gou and Marco eyed Jean as the moment wore on, smiling in amusement.  But then a fellow swimmer was clapping Rin on the shoulder, breaking the eye contact he had with Jean.   

The brunet didn't seem to move until Rin disappeared into the locker room.  And then he exhaled for a lengthy few seconds, turning back to his two friends.  

"What?" he asked defensively, taking a seat. 

"You had a momentttttt," Gou teased, drawing out the last word, poking Jean in the shoulder.

Jean ducked his head, feeling his cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment.  "He's a great swimmer," he finally mumbled.

Both Gou and Marco teased him for a moment more, finally ceasing when the second heat began.  She informed him that Rei had made it to the finals for butterly also, finishing second.  Jean felt relieved to hear both Gou and Marco go back to talking, flirting, whatever it was.  And he smiled to see that it wasn't only Marco that seemed to be drawn in by Gou.  For the younger Matsuoka was listening avidly to Marco as he recounted  a story from the summer in which he and Jean, along with Marco's parents, had gone camping.  And how their campsite had been besieged by raccoons, and Jean had locked himself in Marco's Jeep, refusing to come out until all of the animals were gone.  Gou laughed heartily, and Jean scowled, but he found he didn't mind his friend telling that story at his expense.  

"Maybe I should tell her about how you got stung in the--"

"Anyways, looks like the next race is about to start!" Marco interrupted hastily.  Gou's looked curiously between the two teenagers, eager to hear the rest of the story.  But then the swimmers' names were being announced to the spectators.  Jean saw Seijuro Mikoshiba grin cockily before slipping his goggles over his eyes.

The race went by just as swifly as the previous one.  Seijuro Mikoshiba easily won his heat, moving on to the finals for that race.  As the powerfully built senior emerged from the pool, he made a point to saunter by the bleachers, winking in Jean's general direction.  With a smirk on his face, he disappeared into the locker room.

Gou frowned, but Jean rolled his eyes.  He would _really_ have to make it oh so crystal clear to Seijuro that there was absolutely no fucking way he would ever be interested in him romantically.  He was being completely ridiculous, not to mention rude.  Jean was taken, simple as that.  Continuing to act flirtily would accomplish nothing.  Except to raise Jean's temper, of course.  And he definitely did not appreciate how Seijuro's continued behavior affected Rin.  And he'd be damned before he let _Seijuro Mikoshiba_ , or anybody else, continue to flirt  with him and have Rin submerge himself into his doubts.

"That guy will never stop, will he?" Marco commented disdainfully.  

Jean sighed.  "I think he does it just to be an ass now.  But he and I are going to have words soon."

Soon Gou's energy was reinvigorated with the introduction of the next race, freestyle.  She gave a brief description of the stroke to both Jean and Marco, making it a point to talk about how Haru swam it beautifully.  At that moment, the first set of swimmers for that heat were coming out, and Jean had no problem picking out Haru . . . but then he recognized the strong form a couple of people behind him.  Rin.

"Rin swims this one, too?" Jean didn't even turn his head to face both Gou and Marco, so caught up in watching Rin's armor of concentration that he wore about him.  

"Mmm.  Yeah!  He swims pretty much every stroke, but this one and butterfly are his best."

Jean didn't even notice Haru after that first initial glimpse of him coming out into the swimming pool area.  Because Rin was so captivating in the way he was focusing on his swimming lane, eyes never wavering.  How individual muscles on his upper body flexed and relaxed as he lightly stretched beside his mounting board.  

The first signal was given to get into place, and all of the swimmers complied.  Jean felt their sense of anticipation in that moment, what it must feel like while perched on the board, wondering how long until the starting bell went off, wanting to take one more last deep breath to relax your body.  Maintaining your sense of motivation, fighting off the nervous feel in your stomach that inevitably must come with performing athletically as an individual.  

But if Rin experienced any of these fleeting thoughts while waiting for the race to start, it didn't show.  Jean made a note to ask him about that, how he managed to stay composed right before an event that would produce an outcome based on a couple minutes of close competition.

The starting bell went off then, rousing Jean from these thoughts.  All the swimmers dove in, their form a perfect tangent as they met the surface of the water.  Jean found that he was already standing, despite how early it was in the race.  The thought that this might be unusual, or that he might be blocking the view of the race from other people did not even cross his mind.  His whole body felt tense, and there was a thundering of blood in this veins.  The only movement of his body were his eyes observing Rin's progress as he swam swiftly through the first length of the race. 

Beside Jean, Gou began to cheer loudly for both Rin and Haru, jumping up and down in excitement as it became clear the two swimmers were leading the pack near the end of the race.  Jean's anxiety for the outcome grew, and he couldn't really explain it to himself.  Of course he wanted Rin to do well, to win.  But this was just the preliminary heat to decide who would go on to swim in the finals.  Yet he couldn't stop the strong pounding of his heart in the chamber of his chest, and he grabbed onto Gou's shoulder in an attempt to . . . he didn't know . . . calm himself slightly, perhaps.  Have someone else see the level of his intensity, judge if it was appropriate.  Gou flashed him a bright smile, communicating that _yes_ , his response was more than okay.  She understood it.  And then they both quickly turned back to the swimmers in the pool. 

It was impossible to see who touched the wall first, too close of a race between Rin and Haru.  Jean hastily looked up to the scoreboard, where he saw Rin's name on top, having bested his friend by eight hundreths of a second.  Wow.  How could that even be measured?  How could a result be that close?  Jean thought fleetingly of soccer, where time was weighted.  Where players could work the clock to their advantage, wasting entire seconds that added up to minutes.  Jean looked back to Rin, with an expression of what, he knew not.  Because he was utterly amazed at Rin's talent, his intensity, his skill level.  His raw power in the pool as he propelled himself forward.  Jean wanted to come to all of the swim meets, to feel this feeling again.

Rin must've seen some of that emotion on Jean's face, for he suddenly looked down and off to the side, a small but beaming kind of smile appearing in tandem with a sudden flush on his cheeks.  Jean watched, still slightly stunned in admiration, as Rin made his way out of the pool, clapping an arm around Haru as they made their way back into the locker room.   

The rest of the swim meet continued on in the same fashion.  Rin joined them for a few moments after his second race, happy enough to talk to the three of them.  But his warm, cognac eyes never strayed away from Jean more than the span of a few seconds.  And not for the first or last time, Jean marveled over his masculine beauty.  He just couldn't contemplate how someone could be so _blindingly perfect_ . . . there were just no other words for it.  Rin made his heart swell and his brain turn off because he was that gorgeous and kind and smart. 

The finals soon began, with Rin finishing first, ahead of Seijuro Mikoshiba in the butterfly.  Seijuro finished a close second, with Rei in third.  Jean wasn't quite sure, but he thought he saw Rin look quite smug towards Seijuro for a quick second before all of the swimmers made their way out of the pool.  Nagisa won the breastroke, with Nitori in second.  Jean saw how Nagisa's features quickly spread into that of supreme happiness, yet he still reached over and offered words of congratulations to those that finished second and third.  Makoto finished a good ways ahead of the other competitors in the backstroke, but Momotarou somehow managed to finish in second.  Momotarou didn't seem distraught over the results, flashing finger guns at the results board and high fiving Makoto.  "I'll get you next time!" the younger Mikoshiba declared, but Makoto merely smiled softly in response.  

The last individual final, freestyle, had Jean on edge.  He had known that Haru was an amazing swimmer, according to Gou's information.  So he had watched as Rin and Haru climbed on top of adjacent platforms. And then the race had begun, and it clearly became a two-man contest between the friends.  Again, the outcome was too close to tell based on observation alone.  Jean, who had had eyes only on Rin, thought that his boyfriend had taken the win.  With a quick glance at the scoreboard--

Haruka Nanase had edged Rin out on the win.

Yet Rin seemed to take it just fine, taking a few seconds to himself to come to terms with his placement.  But then he was turning to Haru, joining hands in a shake of friendly and competitive camaraderie.  In a rare occurrence, Haru even smiled slightly back at his friend, and then they had disappeared into the locker room. 

After that, all that remained was the team relay finals.  Iwatobi took first place in that as well, though Shiganshina was a close second.  Through it all, Jean watched each race with bated breath, sure that the anxiety he felt over each race was going to get the better of him.  He really had had no idea that swimming competitively was like this.  It was truly a show of athleticism--not to mention that Jean was able to get multiple glimpses of his topless boyfriend--but wait, that wasn't the point.  Jean was intensely proud of his boyfriend.  He knew, of course, from talking to Rin and seeing him briefly in practice that he was an amazing swimmer.  But to this extent?  It was mind-blowing. 

Soon enough the crowd began to disperse as the swimmers came out to greet their family or friends, along with their coaches.  Everyone began to go their separate ways, headed to the exits once congratulations had been given.  Rin came out with Nitori, and the pair said a few quick words to their coach.  Yet Jean could see that Rin kept flicking glances over at him and the group of friends that were now gathered at the base of the bleachers.

Ms. Amakata and Coach Sasabe were talking about some last details about the team relay, and then they too, left.  Jean and Marco were commenting on a job well done to the Iwatobi boys when Rin approached, standing unobtrusively at Jean's side.  

"Hey," Jean breathed, wanting nothing more than to be alone with Rin right now, to let him know just how amazing he thought he was.  To cover his lips with his own, giving Rin a taste of the intensity he had felt for him all day.  Yet, he would be patient.  He would try.  

"Hey," Rin said back, smiling.  He shoved his hands in the pockets of his warm up pants.  "What did you think?"

"I thought it was fantastic, seriously.  I had no idea swim meets were like this!  I would definitely want to come see one again."

Rin smiled happily, glad that Jean hadn't been bored for the duration of the swim meet.

"And you . . ." Jean continued in a quieter voice, unheard because the rest of their friends were chatting enthusiastically beside them.  "I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

The redhead definitely turned a little red at that comment, but he was pleased all the same.  He laced his fingers through Jean's, and then together they turned to the rest of the group.

"Hey guys.  Guys!"  

Everyone turned to look at Rin, a question on their face.  

Emboldened by his swimming performance and Jean's clear admiration, Rin addressed the group.  "Next Friday, I was thinking of having a get together at my house.  Just the eight of us.  What do you think?"  

The Iwatobi boys seemed to find this to be a good idea, and beside Gou, Marco was nodding his agreement.

"One thing, Rin," Nagisa began liltingly, looking at Rin through the blond hair that was covering part of his face, "There won't be like . . . tofu . . . involved, will there?" 

Rin looked horrified.  "Oh, no.  No.  We'll order a pizza or something."  Makoto visibly relaxed, exhaling loudly.  Haru smacked him playfully in the arm, a hint of amusement dancing in his blue eyes.

But Gou had turned to Marco, her eyes brilliant as she considered him.  "Marco!  Have you ever tried vegan cheese?" 

"No . . . " Marco began waveringly.  "But I would like to?" 

He didn't seem to get the memo--all 4 Iwatobi boys and Rin were shaking their head frantically behind Gou.  But Marco, being the too-nice guy that he was, merely shrugged helplessly before smiling brightly back at Gou.

Jean dropped Marco off before Rin.  Gou had driven to the event, and could have taken Rin home.  But both Jean and Rin had wanted to spend some alone time with each other.  He had considered teasingly suggesting that Gou give Marco a ride home, but in the end, he decided not to.  Marco had a soft heart, and he didn't want to set him up for a potentially nerve-wracking situation.  He could picture Marco suffering from a catatonic state while alone in her company.  Yeah . . . he wasn't going to put either of them through that.

Halfway to Rin's house, Jean was still filling Rin's ear about how amazed he was at his swimming.  He was in the process of describing his perspective of the butterfly finals when Rin laid a warm hand on Jean's thigh.  The soccer captain immediately lost the power of speech.

"Jean?" Rin asked, a teasing note in his voice.  "Something . . . wrong?"

Jean Kirstein was of the private opinion that Rin thoroughly loved teasing him, making his blood heat up so fast it evaporated before it boiled.  There was definitely something in the way that the redhead began to stroke his thigh, corners of his mouth curved up into a sly smile, that didn't speak of an innocent touch.  Jean sped up, now very eager to get back to Rin's house.

"You . . . " Jean began, unable to articulate a coherent thought.

"Me?" Rin asked liltingly.  "I'm wrong?"  Jean watched as he hand-combed his hair away from his face, fixing warm eyes on the brunet.

Jean exhaled heavily, finding it extremely hard to concentrate on driving.  "No!  You . . .you are driving me crazy again." 

"Am I?"  Rin blinked innocently, pressing his palm firmly onto Jean's thigh.  "I just like touching you, _Jean_." 

 _That did it_. 

There was something about the low murmur of Rin's voice as he said his name that had Jean rolling almost too fast into his driveway, jerking his car into park.  But then they were both reaching for each other, having held back an accumulated sexual energy.  Jean pulled Rin as close to him as he could, wanting there to be no space between them at all.  With an impatient and needy moan, Jean joined their lips together, enjoying the heady and familiar scent that was Rin.  Oh god, how he loved it.  A strong arm wrapped around Rin's waist, holding him close.  The long fingers on his free hand worked longingly through soft red hair.

Jean thought that there surely could be nothing better than kissing Rin Matsuoka.  Because the feeling he got from it filled him with the sweetest intensity, the kind that flowed through you and expanded your awareness.  Until all he saw, even with closed eyes, was Rin Matsuoka.  What he looked like when he smiled confidently at Jean, or how the bloom of pink scattered across his cheekbones when he was embarrassed.  All he could hear was Rin's responding moan against his lips, breathy and almost stuttered.  The only taste was that of Rin's skin, and how he yearned to take some of it between his teeth and suck at it.  Leaving small and non-lingering red marks of pleasure on the base of his neck.  How the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood filled the air in the car, so welcome, so Rin.  And how he could pick up the scent of it even after Rin was no longer around him.  How he could only feel Rin's hair under his exploring fingertips and the soft skin of his lower back.  Everything was him.  Rin was all he wanted to know.  

So it was with a fervent intensity that Jean kissed Rin then, tonguing at the inside of his mouth.  He felt Rin tremble, but there was no second of hesitation in his movements, in the redhead's thoughts.  He wanted this just as much as Jean.  Rin worked his own hands underneath Jean's shirt and up his lean back.  The brunet had never felt so acutely turned on before, feeling his dick press against the fabric of his restrictive jeans.  

"Rin . . ." Jean whispered, going back to kiss at Rin's jawline, down to his neck.  "Rin . . . I want you so bad."

"I want you too," Rin responded in a quiet voice, one of his hands coming to press onto Jean's erection. It noticeably hardened under his touch.  "You have . . . no idea."

Their lips found the way back to each other, and this time the pace quickened through their shared desperation.  Jean felt Rin push down on his aroused cock slightly, and it felt _so damn good_ , it had him groaning low in the back of his throat.  

"Fuck." 

Jean let his own curious hand seek out Rin's upper thigh, moving his hand over slowly to palm over the erection he felt.  It felt so intimate to be touching him there again, to stroke over the outline of his arousal.  

"Ahh, Jean," Rin murmured as he pulled back, eyes quite dark.  Molten.  "That feels so good."

 _Jesus fucking christ_.  Jean wanted nothing more than to pull Rin up to his room, tumble with him onto his bed.  Pull down his sweatpants and his own jeans, stroking their cocks together.  But--but he couldn't do that yet, there was still some time needed before they took it that far.  So maybe it was for the best that they had remained in the car.  But goddammit, it was so hard not to suggest it tentatively, see what Rin thought.  

He was fairly certain Rin wouldn't have to think twice about it.

They began kissing again, both of them still stroking each other over the fabric of their clothing.  Rin had just begun to suck oh so lightly at the skin on Jean's neck, the brunet's eyes closed in order to better appreciate the sensation, when there was the sound of a car horn honking.  Twice, as if in welcome. 

Jean's eyes flew open and Rin moved quickly back to sit properly in the passenger seat.  There, beside Jean's car in the Matsuokas' driveway, Mrs. Matsuoka was getting out of her car.  Waving in greeting.

"Hello, boys! Nice to see you, Jean!"  And then she was walking briskly to the side door of her house.

Jean slowly looked over at Rin.  He looked like a tomato, a pretty picture of vibrant mortification.

"I'm so embarrassed," he said, sinking down into the seat, putting his head into his hands. 

 _Me too_ , Jean thought.   _Me too._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up between these two, hehehe. Only a matter of time before. . . .
> 
> Chapter 9 (not the next chap but the one after that!) will feature the main conflict of the story. UH OHHHH. Any guesses what it involves? Or what might happen?


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